Harry Potter and the Mark of Ancients
by Mystiq
Summary: Five thousand year old magic that should have long been forgotten haunts Hogwarts. A strange girl shows up during a dueling tournament Harry shares a bond with. He is cursed to fight off a permanent Imperio and more mentions of his parents torment him.
1. Fighting Fire With Cold

. H . A . R . R . Y . . . P . O . T . T . E . R .  
. A N D . T H E . M A R K . O F . A N C I E N T S .  
  
SUMMARY:  
The glitter is back and now Harry knows how to use it. It's causing quite a bit more commotion as he gets plunged into a series of secrets, lies and negligence the likes of which he has no idea.  
  
FOREWARD:  
Sequel to Harry Potter and the Dursley Dream. Please finish that one before reading this!  
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=857899  
  
SEQUEL:  
Harry Potter and the Book of Memories  
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=897079  
  
Update: November 20th, 2002:  
Having a strong urge to re-read this story, I took the time to proof read it again. Mistakes, both from the original books and this story's own mistakes, were found and corrected, text was edited, spelling/grammar mistakes were fixed, etc. It's slightly longer, but only just.  
  
CHAPTER INDEX  
  
- 1. Fighting Fire With Cold  
- 2. Fiery Finish  
- 3. No Way Out  
- 4. Miraculum Sensi  
- 5. An Ancient Truth  
- 6. Now What  
- 7. Losing Friends  
- 8. The Mystery Girl  
- 9. The Long Day  
-10. Fiery Quidditch  
-11. Sirius  
-12. Emotion Escape  
-13. The Spirit Mirror  
-14. Harry's Bright Idea  
-15. Ancient at Work  
-16. Motum Cicatrix  
-17. The End of A Legend  
  
  
Chapter 1: FIGHTING FIRE WITH COLD  
  
Madam Hooch had been trying to calm Harry for the longest time.  
  
"No, Harry. For the hundredth time, you aren't going to die." Harry wasn't listening.  
  
"Just because I was the youngest Seeker in one hundred years to play on a Quidditch team doesn't mean I should be the youngest player to ever be on a Fire Quidditch team," he said hoarsely.  
  
"You're going to be just fine."  
  
"What if I get hit by a fireball? Will I be just fine then?"  
  
Madam Hooch sighed.  
  
"Fine," she snapped. "You're telling everyone if you quit, not me."  
  
She stormed out of the room and slammed the door. Harry was dearly troubled. Madam Hooch had been part of the experimental Fire Quidditch committee. Some people got a smart idea in their head about a far more dangerous version of the popular wizard sport, Quidditch. In the real game, there are seven players. Three Chasers whose job it was to score points by throwing a ball, the Quaffle, into one of three hoops. One Keeper from each team tries to defend the hoops for their team. Beaters smack around live balls to knock other players off their brooms. The Bludgers, the living balls, do a nice job by themselves. One year a bludger broke Harry's arm. Harry was a Seeker. All Seekers had to do was catch an annoyingly hard to find ball called the Golden Snitch. This would earn the catching Seeker's team one hundred and fifty points as well as end the game.  
  
Fire Quidditch is a far more dangerous game. The players' jobs remain the same except there are a few... enhancements... to the three balls. The Quaffle becomes a high speed projectile capable of speeds near the speed of sound itself. One year a Chaser broke the sound barrier. The resulting shockwave broke the Snitch and everything made of glass within a mile shattered. The Bludgers are enchanted with fire and as such became deadly fireballs with a mind of their own. Beaters are given special clubs that will not melt in the several-hundred-degree heat the Bludgers give off. Several players have been hit by the fireballs and all of which have died. The Golden Snitch, to make matters worse, has knives attached to it that move on their own. One unlucky fellow accidently swallowed the "Spiked Snitch" as fans called it. The unlucky fellow died in a hospital days later due to stomach damage which magic could not repair. Only two countries ever bothered to participate: The United States and Britian. Year after year, The United States won... it just seemed their players were crazier.  
  
At one point, a rule was enforced that if a player dies, that team automatically loses. This did little more than lengthen games by an average of a few minutes. Years before, several players on a team would die before games were to be called off. All players were more recently required to know several spells: self healing, throw shards of ice and metal bending. Only the bravest, most couragest... and stupidest wizards played. The youngest player to date was in his thirties until a fireball to the head abruptly ended his career. Harry was only fifteen, surely this was suicide?  
  
Madam Hooch didn't get too far before Harry said, "Okay, I'll make the announcement tomorrow at dinner," grudgingly. She stopped and poked her head back in.  
  
"If you change your mind... you can sign up on the player backlist."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Fine!"  
  
Fire Quidditch is only held once a year but the rules change each time and each time someone still dies. This year, if a player is injured, the next name at the top of the player backlist takes their place. Each is only allowed five replacements. Everyone says the last player to get put into the game will be the one that dies this year, no one has any doubts. The one change that bothers everyone is the change in field size. It is now twice as wide and four times longer than a regular Quidditch field. Some say this is to give players more room to move in, others say it was because of the sudden growth in popularity. Word had got out that Harry Potter might be playing...  
  
Madam Hooch stormed out yet again but this time Harry heard her footsteps fade away. He went back to his four-post bed up in Gryffindor Tower. They had been arguing for almost an hour. Madam Hooch caught word of Fire Quidditch just three days ago from the International Ministry of Quidditch. They desperately needed players and sent out memos to all their members. She told Harry that very morning. Normally she wouldn't have bothered, but the new safety measures, the Ministry assured her, would prevent any more casualties. News of Harry playing spread because she wrote back immediately before consulting him. Harry thought he would never forgive her.  
  
Harry ran up to his room. Hermione snuck in and had been talking to Ron.  
  
"Hey, Harry! So, you playing?" said Ron with enough excitement for himself and Hermione combined.  
  
"I'm not playing." Ron's smile turned upside down.  
  
"Ron, you know how dangerous that game is," said Hermione comfortingly. She turned to Harry and said, "I don't blame you." She gave Ron a piercing stare. "We wouldn't want his guts splattered all over now, would we?"  
  
"Don't remind me of what the Golden Snitch did someone two years ago," Harry groaned. "And don't blame me, blame Madam Hooch." He sat down on his bed. "Good night."  
  
Ron knew better this time than to bother him further. The past two nights, Harry had been grumpy. Ron got a very sudden attack of slug-belching last night, you might even say the source was Harry.  
  
Harry didn't talk much the next day. Futile attempts were made to ask him about participating. They all thought he was preparing mentally... he was just hiding his anger. Dinner finally came and the usual end of day announcements were to be made. It was only a week into the Hogwarts term, but to him it felt like a year already. To Harry's great relief, Professor Dumbledore, headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, relieved Harry of having to make the announcement himself.  
  
"The first announcement of the night concerns Fire Quidditch," Dumbledore started.  
  
"Oh Ron, hide me," said Harry nervously.  
  
"Harry Potter does not wish to be participating." Lots of murmuring filled the Great Hall. "You should respect his decision." The murmuring only grew louder. "Okay then, I'd like to see some of you sign up," he said grinning and the talking ceased.  
  
"The second and final announcement also concerns Fire Quidditch. It has come to our attention that Britian's team is short one player." Everyone started talking. "HOWEVER!" Dumbledore bellowed, "the International Ministry of Quidditch will still allow the team to play. For any student wishing to attend, notices have been sent home. I'm sure they would know if you want to go or not."  
  
"Is Harry going?" someone yelled out.  
  
"No," Harry yelled back.  
  
He definitely knew The Dursley's wouldn't let him go. They almost lost him three times in under four years. Then again, the chance to be rid of him was very tempting. Harry went to bed without dinner that night.  
  
Fire Quidditch was a mostly school-run event. The International Ministry of Quidditch couldn't find any money from charities or other organizations after the first five years, too many people had died. Schools around the globe had thrown up support for it simply due to the money-making venture. Indeed, schools that could not normally stay open due to financial issues made sizeable profits.  
  
The next day arrived and no one wanted to even look at Harry. He didn't mind though, better no one talk to him than to mention Fire Quidditch. A few days passed and Harry got his friends back, other than Hermione and Ron that is. Finally, Professor Dumbledore made the announcement everyone was waiting for Thursday that week.  
  
"I have the date, time and place of where this year's Fire Quidditch match will be taking place." The room exploded. "The same place as last year's Quidditch World Cup this Saturday. They start promptly at 10:00 P.M.! And yes, I have received a signed form from every single student except for..." and he took out a small roll of parchment, "nevermind," he said shooting a quick but noticeable grin to Harry.  
  
"Is Harry going?" someone yelled out again.  
  
Harry stood up and said furiously, "Are you crazy? Of course I'm NOT GOING!"  
  
Harry's fingers glittered at the thought but it quickly faded away. Not three weeks ago, he found out he had a Mark of Ancients. Ancients were several thousand-year-old wizards whose mark was the glittering of skin. Such a mark causes the wizard with it to be able to use stronger magic with little or no effort as well as boosting the effectiveness of magic already usable. Harry learned how to control the mark and it only appeared when he wanted it to. The mark can make skin glow white when it is at full power.  
  
Hermione looked up at Harry in disgust. "Sit down, they're staring at you," she whispered. Indeed, a few people were staring at Harry... including Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore continued his announcement.  
  
"Britian is still short one player and as I mentioned, the team is still allowed to play. Of course, if the player backlist runs out, they are automatically disqualified. As a result," he said with a deep sigh, "it would seem our chances of winning are as great as..." and then he said with a smile, "You-Know-Who taking Mr. Potter from us." Small spurts of laughter could be heard around the room. Harry smiled the biggest smile. Voldemort, affectionately known as You-Know-Who by most, tried and failed five times to kill Harry. Most people hope he would just give up as it didn't look like it was ever going to happen. False security however, Professor Dumbledore reminded Harry time and time again, is the most dangerous. He finished up with, "To accomodate, all classes for tomorrow... will be canceled."  
  
The Great Hall was never louder.  
  
After the announcement (and the ringing in everyone's ears died down), Professor Dumbledore walked over to Harry, Ron and Hermione.  
  
"You probably know the name I didn't bother calling on that list, you three." Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll let you go and nobody will be none the wiser." Dumbledore's eyes glowed.  
  
"My parents are meeting me here tomorrow night, Harry," Ron informed him. "Hermione's parents don't want to watch, but she's going too. You can come with us. You do want to come, don't you?"  
  
Harry was torn. Should be go, not play, and upset everyone? Or not go, don't play and still upset everyone?  
  
"Okay, I'll go." Ron gave him a look of excitement and was teetering on the edge of asking something. "No, I'm still not playing."  
  
That reply put an end to Ron's teeter. Professor Dumbledore gave Harry a pat on the back. Hagrid had been crying the whole time. It was anyone's guess whether he was upset that Harry wasn't going to play or the fact that his food bit him on the finger. Peeves, the school poltergeist, had been practicing possessing objects.  
  
That night came and went. The next afternoon came and went. Harry didn't know whether to feel happy or upset. Most everyone in the wizarding world wanted to see him play Fire Quidditch... it was all Madam Hooch's fault. He was happy that he could go watch the game but he still didn't want to play, definitely not. There mere thought of a fireball chasing him, or having to catch a Golden Snitch laden with knives made him quiver.  
  
Saturday morning Harry woke up to lots of chattering he wished would go away.  
  
"Harry, come on wake up! It's 4:00 A.M.! We have to get started now or we won't make it in time," Ron said. Harry wasn't awake. He rolled over and fell on the floor still half asleep. Ginny, Ron's little sister (who everyone knew had a crush on Harry) let out a short-lived giggle.  
  
"Why so early?" asked Harry slurring his words.  
  
"Because this year we don't want to have to get caught by Muggles."  
  
"Can't I just Dispparate all of us there?" He climbed back into his bed and lay on his stomach.  
  
"Eh? I hadn't thought of that." Harry groaned and put his pillow over his head. Ron said something that sounded like "Let ask me mum." Harry fell back to sleep.  
  
What seemed like no more than seconds later, Ron was again standing over Harry, poking him with a finger.  
  
"It's 9:00 A.M.! Out of bed. Now!" squealed Mrs. Weasley from behind Ron. Harry rolled over and once again fell out of bed. He stood up quickly obviously embarassed from having done so twice now. Harry staggered his way over to a drawer pulling out a clean red sweatshirt and a pair of khaki pants.  
  
"If we're Apparating there you don't have to wear those horrid Muggle clothes," Mrs. Weasley reminded him. With a snap of his fingers, Harry was instantly dressed in the usual Hogwarts robes except the usual black cloak was white.  
  
"I need a change of scenery," he yawned. Mrs. Weasley liked it. "We do have time to eat something, don't we?"  
  
"Of course, dear."  
  
Harry kept yawning on his way out through the Gryffindor common room, down stairs and into the Great Hall. There were only a few people eating breakfast. Most of them, Harry guessed, were either not going or were going to be late. Ron strolled down taking a seat next to Harry. The rest of the Weasleys followed him. Harry stuffed almost his entire plate of scrambled eggs into his mouth. He had trouble chewing it.  
  
"Nervous?" asked Ron.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"You tell me."  
  
Harry sighed, put his fork down, put his elbows on the edge of the table and rested his head between his hands letting out a deep breath.  
  
"I don't know... whether to be... happy... or... worried... or," he said with a great deal of anxiety.  
  
"You still choked up over that? Cmon, Harry, don't let it get to you. You don't want to play, so what?" Harry picked up his fork with one hand, head still on the other and jammed it in a big wad of food. He then tried to stick the fork in his nose thinking it was his mouth. Ron laughed. Harry did a good job of getting eggs up his nose because he didn't notice until Ron told him "your mouth is moving but the eggs aren't anywhere near it." Harry blew his nose on a napkin.  
  
"I'm not hungry anymore. Let's go."  
  
"Ginny, hold on to me," said Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"Everyone hold onto someone else's hand and two of you hold onto mine. Better off we're touching when I do it, lessens the chance of accidents," he said, winking at Fred and George. They stood in a circle and joined hands. Hermione and Ron were holding onto Harry. His skin started to glitter and they all appeared dead center of the Fire Quidditch field.  
  
"Quick, move before someone notices," he whispered. Harry's cheeks were glowing pink with embarassment. The Mark of Ancients was glowing white and his cheeks became red as apples.  
  
"Turn that stupid thing off, Harry," said Hermione.  
  
"Oops," he said as the glow disappeared. "Let's get a seat up there, there's nine, just right." Ron's two oldest brothers probably traveled here by themselves.  
  
"DUCK!" Ginny shouted. Harry did as told as a fire-glazed Bludger whizzed over his head. They watched as it flew far out and turned around to come back for a second try. Harry ducked it again, inches from hitting him on the head, and it flew off into the distance.  
  
He looked up at Mr. Weasley who had a look of utter shock on his face. "Why did that try to come at me?"  
  
"They sometimes let out Bludgers pre-game to test them," Hermione explained. "You're not supposed to walk around in the field... a few years ago the only death was someone who walked onto the field to go see a friend."  
  
They turned around as someone came running over.  
  
"Harry Potter I presume!" said the old wizard dressed in Quidditch robes. His cloak had "International Ministry of Quidditch" written down the buttons Harry noticed. He grabbed Harry's hand and shook it much too hard for Harry's liking.  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"Such a shame you won't be playing today, Mr. Potter! Madam Hooch has told us so much about you!" There was so much glee in him Harry felt rather uncomfortable. "Such a pleasure to meet you." The violent shaking of Harry's hand stopped. "Maybe next year?"  
  
"Maybe!" said Harry exubertantly, expertly hiding the fact that he really wanted to say hell no. "We really should be going, have to have good seats you know."  
  
"Yes, well, nice meeting you!" He totally ignored everyone else and walked away.  
  
"I'll never get used to that," said Harry eyeing the man nervously as he walked away.  
  
"Let's go sit, shall we?" said Mrs. Weasley. It took several minutes to walk across the field the long way by foot. They stopped just a few feet short of the stands. The Golden Snitch whizzed by Harry's head and he felt just short of wanting to play. The thought was beaten down as another Bludger took a shot at Percy. It skimmed his arm leaving his robes smoking.  
  
"And you people wonder why I don't want to play."  
  
The Bludger came back and Harry hit it with a levitation charm with a glowing hand. The Bludger went flying into the air and through a the tallest ring on the opposite side of the field. Harry impressed himself. There were a few oohs and ahhs from the crowd. The nine of them heard a few voices whispering, "Harry Potter!"  
  
"I still don't see why you won't play, Harry. You just scored a goal with a Bludger," said Ron with a faint smile.  
  
"Do you want to be belching slugs for a third time? You forgot that Bludgers in Fire Quidditch are really on fire and they aggressively attack Seekers who are chasing the Snitch," he said angrily as he plopped himself hard into a seat.  
  
Someone with a magically loud voice began to speak. "Welcome to the International Ministry of Quidditch's 1996 Fire Quidditch game!" Loud clapping errupted from all the stands. "May we remind you to not walk across the field! Our Bludgers may not miss you!" It was the man they ran into earlier. Harry covered his head with his cloak and tried not to look. "We do have a spectacular game for you tonight! The United States of America versus Britian!  
  
"As you all know by now, several more new rules took effect this year. For one, the field is much bigger. We hope this will lessen the number of contacts with Bludgers but we did, however, make them three times faster. There is now a player backlist as well. Five extra souls signed themselves up to take their teammate's positions should they be injured. Note that this means the game will not end until the Snitch is caught, as usual, or the entire list of players has been depleted --"  
  
The man's speech droned on and on but Harry stopped paying attention.  
  
After some fifteen minutes, it was ten o'clock and the players rose up on their brooms into the middle of the field. "Our fourteen brave souls fly out onto the field, the Snitch is up, the Bludgers are out... the Quaffle is released! The game begins!"  
  
Someone else was the game announcer. "USA Chaser number one takes posession! Oooh close encounter with a lot of heat! Through Britian's Chasers, dodges another Bludger and right past the Keeper! Ten points for USA! Quaffle back into play, Britian in possession. Number two races down the middle. Oh, only to be smacked down by USA Chaser two! USA in possession! Close encounter with the degree kind, he drops it! Britian's ball. Down the left end... he's gonna feel that one tomorrow morning! USA's ball. Thrown into the air, number three spins on his broom, perfect score! Twenty-zero USA!" The game was obviously very one sided. Fourty-zero, fifty-zero... then finally someone spotted the Snitch after thirty minutes.  
  
"Britian Seeker spots the snitch! Down the middle, past the Keepers, through a few Chasers, ooh narrow miss by USA Beater number one! He's closing in on the snitch! In comes the USA Seeker! Such a shame, Britian's Seeker's broom caught on fire. Please wait five minutes before the person on top of their player backlist can be put in!"  
  
Harry pointed out to Ron the condition of the Seeker's broom. Within seconds, it had burned to nothing and he fell flat onto the sand. Lucky for him he realized the Bludger was going after him and he managed to drop a considerable height before contact. It was looking hopeless for Britian. Seventy-zero, eighty-zero...  
  
"Cheer up folks, no deaths yet!" The announcer spoke too soon. "Oh my, Bludger straight to the head. Medical witches, please hurry!" The fire was put out but the wizard had lost his nose in the flames. He wasn't going to die, but he was no longer pretty, either. Harry felt sick.  
  
Britian lost two more seekers to near-fatal injuries and their backlist ran out. The USA scored four more times.  
  
"Excellent goal by USA Chaser 3! One-thirty to zero! Britian in possession. Close call by a blood-hungry Bludger... close to the hoops now... dodgers another Bludger... and... score! One-thirty to ten! USA ball! That didn't last long did it, Britian's ball thanks to a narrow miss of the hand by a Bludger. Broom-swatted from across the field, score! One-thirty to twenty! USA ball. Straight down the middle, dodges two chasers, two Bludgers... and the Snitch! USA and Britian's Seekers' fly after it. Neck and neck... such a shame for the USA Seeker! Next player on the backlist, please. Lucky it wasn't two inches over and only his broom and hand got burned!"  
  
"You'd think after so many injuries they would tone the balls down," said Hermione.  
  
"But that's half the fun!" Ron insisted. Hermione sighed.  
  
"Don't you feel bad for them?"  
  
"Of course I do! But I wouldn't come otherwise! I'd really rather not see someone die though, that's very depressing." Ron looked at Harry very quickly then back at the game. It was only a few months ago that Harry narrowly escaped permanent death. Harry glared at him.  
  
During their conversation, Britian scored once again. "Another score for Britian! One-thirty to thirty! USA's ball, chaser one being chased by all three Britian chasers. One one top, one on left and the other on bottom. Oh they rip the Quaffle right from his hands! The two on his side drive him right over the stands! Britian chaser makes a break for it... score!"  
  
"This is quite a surprise," started Mrs. Weasley, "it's amazing they're able to --"  
  
"SCORE!"  
  
"-- so many times."  
  
"That puts the score at what, one hundred thirty to fourty? That's still very high," said Mr. Weasley incitefully.  
  
"SCORE AGAIN!"  
  
"Ron." Hermione poked him but he was too interested in watching. Britian seemed to be making a very good comeback. "Ron!" She poked him again.  
  
"Shh! I'm trying to watch!"  
  
"There's no use, Hermione," said Harry. "He's just going to send you right in there if you poke him again."  
  
"Britian scores! One hundred thirty to sixty!" The next hour droned on and Britian managed to bring their score up to one hundred twenty."  
  
"This scoring is getting annoying, when is someone going to see the Snitch again?" barked Ron.  
  
"I can see it from here," Harry said, pointing at it. "It's right there, over the USA Seeker's head. Dumb git doesn't see it, not my fault."  
  
"Britian's Seeker charges toward USA's Seeker! Does he see the Snitch? USA Seeker narrow escapes being hit. It is, Britian is chasing the Snitch!"  
  
"Happy now, Ron?" snapped Hermione. "He's got two Bludgers chasing him and the Snitch is only running away from him."  
  
"Disaster..." said the announcer in a soft voice. One Bludger hit the front of his broom and the other torched the wizard's hair. "Britian Seeker out of commission." Ron's eyes were furious. "Britian's backlist is empty but it has come to my attention that someone from the crowd may take his place if he or she wishes too." All the players still flew around, dodging Bludgers and eyeing the crowd to see if anyone would get up.  
  
"Harry!" said Ron in an overexcited voice.  
  
"NO!" he bellowed. Ron was giving him puppy eyes but Harry stood his ground.  
  
"We will take a fifteen minute break. In the mean time, if anyone wishes to play, see Madam Hooch or myself. If no one volunteers, the game will be over and The United States will take the win."  
  
Harry sat staring at the Bludgers still flying around the track confused there were no players. Ron had been talking to him for a good ten minutes but he wasn't listening. Finally, he heard Ron say,  
  
"You have to go, Harry. The USA has won every single game since Fire Quidditch started!" pleaded Ron.  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes, please?" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a startling look.  
  
"You're not going to make him play if he doesn't want to," said Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"Fine. Fine, fine, fine."  
  
Harry didn't look happy, but he didn't want Britian to lose for the one hundredth year in a row. "Where the bloody hell is Madam Hooch," he said staring at Ron disgusted. Ron gave a half smile and pointed at her near the announcer's stand. Harry stepped down to the middle of the field and walked over to Madam Hooch, who looked very happy. There were murmurs directed at him as he walked over to the announcer's stand, no doubt wondering if he was going to play.  
  
"Ron convinced me."  
  
"Excellent! Don't worry, you'll be just fine," she said, picking up his left hand and admiring the soft glow. "You'll be needing a broom but that's sort of a problem because there are no spares."  
  
"I have a Firebolt, remember?" He snapped his fingers and was carrying it the next instant.  
  
"You also need team robes." Lucky for them, the Quidditch robes he wore for Gryffindor were the exact same ones Britian wore during Fire Quidditch. Another snap and he was dressed. Harry seemed to have everything under control, except the slight shaking all over his body and the sick feeling in his stomach. "Go over there and talk to the Britian team captain and give him this." She handed Harry a note saying, "Backlist player five."  
  
Harry walked away.  
  
He walked over to where the Britian players were standing down on the grass. Some of them broke off to talk but were all standing in generally the same area. They all stared at him oddly as he approached. He tried not to feel nervous but it wasn't easy; not every day to you volunteer to play on a team in a sport recognized world-wide not to mention being highly dangerous.  
  
"Are you going to be playing with us?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"A little young, aren't you?" The team had gathered around to see who was coming. The sick feeling in his stomach turned into a slight pain. Would it be best to hide his name and just play anonymously? But what if he had to use the Mark to save himself? Would they all fall off their brooms...  
  
"Okay. You got some robes, and a broom... what kind is it?" he said in a flat tone. Harry handed it to the captain and he glanced at it. "A Firebolt, excellent, just what the rest of us have!" The small grin on his face turned off. "I don't see why they would let someone -- hey how old are you?"  
  
"Fifteen."  
  
"Fifteen play. Who lent you the broom?"  
  
"It's mine."  
  
"Yours? What's your name, kid?" The slight pain turned into a hand grabbing his stomach trying to rip it out. It wasn't avoidable.  
  
"Harry Potter." They dropped their broomsticks, stopped talking and whipped their heads in his direction.  
  
"The real Harry Potter?" one of them asked.  
  
The familiar look of the eyes staring up at his forehead was obvious. Harry flipped up his bangs to show them the scar they were all waiting to see. The team captain tried to speak but he kept swallowing his words.  
  
"What?" Harry said in a slight groan. "Give me some parchment and a quill, you want an autograph?" The Keeper did a double take. Harry was certain he thought he heard the name wrong.  
  
"No, Mr. Potter." There was a nervous twitch and a half laugh as he spoke. The other team members had gathered around.  
  
"A friend convinced me."  
  
"Wow. I'll be a gremlin's uncle if we lose," someone said quietly in the stands behind them.  
  
"You'll do just fine!"  
  
"That's what Madam Hooch tried to tell me for about an hour a few days ago." One of them let out a light giggle. "I got one question, though. Aren't players required to know a Freezing Flame charm? I mean, that would avoid a lot of injuries."  
  
"Supposed to, yes. Rare though, don't think anyone here tonight can. People willing to play are hard to come by so they bend the rules quite a bit. Can you?" He would have to show them the Mark. Show them or don't show them?  
  
"No," he lied. Harry put his hands in his cloak to stifle the glitter that tried to show. He couldn't explain it. The embarassment of having to show all he could do was too much at the moment. Better to let it show if he needed to and try to get through the game without incident. Harry never liked too much attention. The glitter stopped and he put his hands out again. The fifteen minute break was up.  
  
"It seems we have someone who wishes to fill in the last spot for Britian's black list!" Harry looked up at him. The announcer didn't see Harry as he opened a slip of paper Madam Hooch gave him with Harry's name on it. The announcer clasped a hand over his mouth. "Harry Potter will be playing for Britian." The stadium filled with murmurs. Harry distinctively heard Ron say, "GO HARRY!"  
  
The team captain called over to him, "Come Mr. Potter --"  
  
"No need to call me 'mister,' just 'Harry,'" he said with a big grin.  
  
"Sure. So. Come, Harry. Gotta get back to the field. Starting soon." Harry mounted his trusty Firebolt and followed the captain up in the air to the middle of the field.  
  
"Britian is sure to win with Mr. Potter on their team! Right! So... up goes the Quaffle, the game begins!"  
  
Harry had no time to listen to the announcer. He spotted the Snitch right away and rode after it, the look of victory in his eyes. The Bludgers wouldn't leave him alone, though. He dodged them with all kinds of moves, twists, rolls, dives, climbs and all the while trying to keep an eye on the Snitch that seemed to be able to evade his every zoom. Harry ignored the gasps from the crowd as he circled around a Bludger and confusing it so it went straight up into the air. They were unrelenting. He got closer to the Snitch and the USA Seeker had caught on to him.  
  
"Hey there, Potter. Think you can catch it before I do?"  
  
"Go ahead, I don't want my hand to get cut off." The Seeker gave Harry a dirty look.  
  
"Scared?" he said laughing. Harry layed flat on his broom and took off like a rocket after the Snitch. Harry felt something hot and looked behind him. A Bludger was following him slowly gaining ground but Harry couldn't shake it. He turned around and lost the Snitch. The heat behind him went away.  
  
"Potter gets a close encounter with a Bludger!"  
  
Harry was angry with himself.  
  
"One hundred seventy to sixty!"  
  
Harry flew several hundred feet above the USA hoops and gazed at the Britian hoops looking for the Snitch. USA scored two more times while he wasn't paying attention. He saw it again. Something golden zoomed past his left. The USA Seeker was hot on it's trail and Harry bolted himself flat to his broom. The crowd became a mere blur as he was speeding away. The Snitch soared directly downwards. Both Seekers were in a dive straight for the ground. Harry felt something hot behind him again, a Bludger was right on his tail, inches from the edge of his broom. The distance between him and it was growing but ever so slowly. He couldn't keep up the dive and within seven seconds, pulled straight out. The fireball was a few feet behind him. The USA Seeker hit the ground but was back on his feet in the air within seven more seconds. Harry turned around, the Bludger behind him was gaining again. He climbed straight up for fifty feet and looped around it to try and shake it off but it didn't work. It was a foot away and gaining very slowly. Harry turned forward and gazed at the Snitch... and the other Bludger heading straight for him.  
  
He didn't think. His skin glowed white, sinked a little and stopped dead. The Bludgers aimed directly at his head. He reached both hands outwards, palms out and flicked his wrists. Each Bludger became blue as water upon contact with his hand and began to fall. They each hit the ground and shattered like glass. The stadium let out one, big, loud, simultaneous gasp of fear.  
  
"Potter has disabled the Bludgers!" screamed the announcer in utter disbelief. With those out of the way -- and ignoring the hushed silence -- he didn't have to worry about getting burned. He continued to chase after the extraordinarily fast Snitch but the other hazard were the blades spinning very fast around it. How was he going to avoid not getting his hands cut off? He picked one hand off the broom and reached into his robes for his wand. "Wingardium leviosa," he whispered to himself. The blades bent and cracked, falling to the ground. He was in the clear. Nothing to worry about now except the USA Seeker hot on his tail again.  
  
"Ingenious, Potter." Harry grabbed the very tip of his broomstick and put his feet on either side of the back of the broom, toes pointing down. He pulled the front back hard sending himself spinning and barreling backwards into the USA Seeker. Harry's back knocked against the USA Seeker and he was knocked clear out of the field with no chance of catching up to Harry before he could get the Snitch.  
  
"I don't know whether to call that a foul or fancy playing!" The crowd roared with exitement. "USA Seeker doesn't look hurt so I guess it's just fancy playing." Harry, still rolling backwards, gripped the front tighter and pulled his feet up hard. His rolling stopped but he had lost the Snitch again.  
  
"Harry! Snitch! Behind me!" one Britian player called to him. Sure enough, the Snitch was following him. Harry lay flat against his broom once again and zoomed after the Snitch. He carefully put one foot on top of his broom and the other foot just below it so he held it between his feet. Harry let go of the front, straightened the broom and arched himself forward. He was going so fast he couldn't make out any shapes except that of himself and the Snitch and had a hard time turning. Both hands out, the Snitch was just inches in front of him. It wasn't gaining ground and he wasn't catching up to it, he needed to think of another way to get closer. Just two inches!  
  
"USA - Two hundred thirty, Britian, sixty!" If he didn't catch it soon, there would be no hope.  
  
The USA Seeker was flying right below him.  
  
"Be a shame if you were to lose grip of your broom, wouldn't it?"  
  
"You wouldn't. We're at least one hundred feet up," said Harry eyeing the Snitch nervously. He wouldn't!  
  
The Seeker grinned madly and flew right behind him reaching his hand out. Harry had an idea. If the USA Seeker hit him, it might give him enough of a boost to grab the Snitch. He slowed himself down. The USA Seeker banged right into him and Harry felt his heart stop.  
  
His broom slipped out from between his feet. He whipped his arms down and tried to grab it realizing what had just happened, but it was too late. The crowd gaped in awe. Something hard hit him on the chest as he fell and hit the ground with a crack.  
  
Harry, barely conscious, put his hand under where a small object was between him and the ground. It was the Snitch. He picked his head up. "Look at that. We won," he said with a last breath as he grabbed it and stretched his arm out for all to see. His head hit the ground and he was out.  
  
His eyes opened up. Madam Pomfrey was standing over him as were the Weasleys, the announcer, the Britian team, Hermione and Ron.  
  
"You broke four ribs, Harry," said Hermione.  
  
"One hundred feet up and you broke four ribs," repeated the Britian captain in disbelief. Professor Dumbledore had stepped over.  
  
"Thank goodness for the Mark of Ancients, eh, Harry?" he said with a warm smile.  
  
"I'd rather not have fallen, thanks," said Harry gloomily.  
  
"The what?" said most of the Britian players.  
  
"Mark of Ancients. Surely you know what it is?" said Dumbledore.  
  
"Yeah, we do... but-" he said as Dumbledore turned to Harry and interrupted him.  
  
"No one did anything but you started to slow down about ten feet before you hit," he said, reaching a hand down. Harry grabbed it hard, stood up and looked down at himself. His robes were torn to shreds.  
  
"That was quite a trick you did up there with the USA Chaser, the Bludgers and trying to catch the Snitch," said Madam Hooch. Harry stumbled. Hermione walked over and let him lean on her as his legs were feeling like jelly.  
  
"I read about it in a book Ron gave me." Ron was overcome with joy.  
  
"The Backward Bowling Ball, Human Spear and a Freezing Flame Charm," said the captain with great joy. "The first two being advanced moves many players have trouble with. But... you told me you couldn't do that charm?"  
  
"I lied," Harry said briskly.  
  
He conjured a fireball in his free hand, threw it into the air and shot an icicle at it. It, too, hit the ground shattering like glass. Harry was happy, but he hurt all over and was extremely tired. "Good game, but someone tell Madam Hooch if she ever thinks I will play again, I'll let her fall one hundred feet," he said grinning.  
  
"You missed the screaming and everyone tried to run over to you," said Hermione.  
  
"Good," replied Harry.  
  
"You wouldn't believe how loud it got. Some people must have used voice enhancing charms because I thought my ears were going to break. You did it, Harry! First game in one hundred years where the USA lost!"  
  
"Hey, where is that USA Seeker, anyway? Did you see what he was doing? Tried to pull my broom from under me. I let him hit me, thought it would shove him off and let me get the Snitch. Worked, but I didn't think that I would lose my broom."  
  
"Soon as you did that, the Snitch changed direction and went right under you trying to go backwards. We heard him saying he was just trying to scare you, who knows."  
  
The crowd was thinning out and most everyone had left already. Harry's embarassed and annoyed attitude turned for the better when he looked around. There were people waving and yelling at him calling his name from every direction. It was quite a good feeling, that. He went to sleep that night trying to picture what it was like when he held up the Snitch in his hand. Hermione had later told him he was unconscious for about thirty minutes as Madam Pomfrey mended his bones so he wouldn't have to feel it. 


	2. Fiery Finish

Chapter 2: FIERY FINISH  
  
There was another competition Harry was flustered over. This one he wanted to take part in. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape, the Potions master, had started a dueling tournament. It was really a worldwide thing. Anyone in their fifth, sixth or seventh year was allowed to compete. Lucky for Harry, he was in his fifth. He didn't think much about his classes. The Great Duel, as everyone started to call it, was on everyone's mind. Classes and homework were a mere afterthought. After all schools had declared winners, the select few who wished to continue would compete worldwide. All games were single elimination, if you lost once, you were out.   
  
Any spell anyone could use was viable. Professor Snape had brewed a temporary immortality potion, the only wizard on the planet who dared to. Three hundred years ago someone tried it and it resulted in the immediate death of a rat he tried it on. Snape tried it on a rat, then asked Harry to try to kill it. Harry succeeded with the forbidden Avada Kedavra curse and Snape was rather unhappy. The next day Snape called him again. This time Harry used a summon meteor spell he had been working on. The rat's body repelled the three foot long meteor as if it were a bouncing ball. Dumbledore had devised a health system whereby upon taking a spell, one of two large hourglasses filled with sand, one for each player, would lose sand according to how damaging the spell would be if it were to have actually hurt the person.  
  
The local tournament would then spawn into an international tournament to be held at Hogwarts. The top competitor, next to Harry, was one Thantanos Brev. No one seemed to know who he was, but everyone seemed to know he was very good. Some rumors were starting that Brev would be the one to face Harry in the last duel... and win. Malfoy was the culprit, as expected, and the rumors were thus squashed becase Dumbledore had asked for talk of the international part to cease until it began.  
  
The first day of the tournament rolled around one lazy Friday afternoon. The entire tourament was to be very short. Only eight people had signed up. Ron swore it was because they didn't want to have to face any magic from Harry, word got out about him killing Snape's supposedly immortal rat. Snape insisted the potion could not rebound the death curse and gave Harry quite a yelling the last day of signups.  
  
"I asked you to try and kill it, Potter, not to succeed," he said angrily.  
  
"You asked me to kill it and I did! You should have told me if you didn't want me to use certain spells!" Harry pleaded.  
  
"Now, thanks to you, we only have eight people. Other schools have upwards of thirty."  
  
The duels were to take place in the Great Hall. Dumbledore had conjured a foot tall platform about twenty square feet. The first two combatants were to be Harry and Draco Malfoy, someone Harry hoped to get rid of as quickly as possible. One night before, Dumbledore had given the rules out. Standard stuff, everyone thought. Harry found himself fast asleep during the explanation.  
  
"Our first two contestants are," said Dumbledore, "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy!"  
  
The two of them stepped to opposite ends of the platform and readied their wands. Each participant had been told they could wear whatever they wanted to a match. Harry had been sporting a cloak he covered in fake troll blood. Last year he had exploded a troll with an overpowered Avada Kedavra curse and it was Hermione's idea to look threatening. He wore black pants and a dark blue sweater. Harry had also covered his hat in fake troll blood. It was rather revolting to look at but Professor Dumbledore liked the idea. Malfoy wore nothing but standard school robes. Nobody was surprised... Malfoy was never very creative.  
  
"All right you two," said Snape. "Fight clean and don't explode Malfoy. Malfoy, fight dirty and explode Potter." Malfoy's mouth and eyes turned into slits and glory. Harry smirked and glittered his skin.  
  
"Harry," called Dumbledore. "No mark for the inter-school tournament, please."  
  
Malfoy snickered. Harry grumpily stopped it. He had attempted several more powerful spells in prior days without the mark and the only one he could do was summon a small dragon made of ice no bigger than one foot. It was no good for anything other than crashing into walls and shattering, making Mr. Filch, the caretaker, run over to it and see the ice vanish before his eyes. One time Mr. Filch heard something shatter and didn't come thinking it was just Harry again. Turned out Peeves had dropped a trophy. Harry tried to get Ron and Hermione to summon the dragon but their wands only gave off small puffs of snow.  
  
"In your corners, wands at the ready... go!"  
  
Malfoy snickered and would be doing so the entire time but the win didn't take long. They circled each other not letting their eyes off the other. Malfoy made the first move but wasn't quick enough.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" cried Harry. Malfoy's wand careened into the crowd. "Draconus iciclia!" The familiar ice dragon flew from Harry's wand and shot towards Malfoy. It breathed a freezing barrage of ice at him and exploded in his face making the hour glass lose all of the sand at once. Harry smirked as Malfoy fell backwards.  
  
"Potter wins," growled Snape. Malfoy picked up his wand and muttered something nobody could hear. Harry's skin glowed white without his permission. Whatever spell Malfoy had tried, it bounced and Malfoy was belching slugs. Everyone except people in Slytherin laughed.  
  
"Let's go, Harry," said Hermione.  
  
"Yeah, let that dumb git have his turn with slugs." Ron had broken his wand before even getting to school in their second year. He tried to use the belching slug curse on Malfoy but his wand backfired. As fate would have it, the same thing finally happened to Malfoy.  
  
Nobody really payed attention in class lately. Everyone's mind was on the next duel between Hermione and Seamus Finnigan. Seamus was famous for blowing things up. In his first year he managed to explode a feather. He also exploded a cup he was trying to turn into rum. The duel was to take place the following Monday. Finally classes ended, dinner had finished and the duel was to start.  
  
"This evening will be Hermione Granger and Seamus Finnigan!"  
  
"Try not to blow anything up, Seamus! Better watch it, Hermione!" someone called from the crowd. Harry recognized the voice as Malfoy. Harry walked over to him.  
  
"Too bad you didn't last more than ten seconds, Malfoy," said Harry. Malfoy's eyes went so thin Harry was sure he couldn't see out of them. "I would have had fun with you!"  
  
"Let's see how well you do in the worldwide duels, Potter." Their conversation was interrupted by Professor Minerva McGonagall, headmistress at Hogwarts.  
  
"What is this, boys? Please, go back to your seats." Harry hid a wide grin from McGonagall to Malfoy. He was feeling more angst than usual towards Malfoy but it was all in good fun. Competition brought the worst out in all the Houses.  
  
The duel had already started. Hermione's hat was in smoke and Seamus was dancing. This was going to be a long match. After fifteen minutes, Seamus managed to explode a few chairs, the rest of Hermione's hat was destroyed and Seamus' hourglass had lost most of it's sand. Hermione's was down half way.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" both of them cried. Both their wands shot upwards and hit the other one on the head. Hermione reached outwards to her wand and muttered something. Seamus fell to the ground and the last of his hourglass was depleted.  
  
"Miss Granger wins!"  
  
Over the next week, a Gryffindor fifth year faced a Gryffindor seventh year, and Slytherin seventh year versus a Hufflepuff sixth year. Slytherin was none to happy about the outcome of their duel. The match lasted almost an hour and it took a stroke of luck of a near-miss fireball to win. The Slytherin seventh year managed to win but only had a single grain of sand left. None of the Ravenclaws bothered to sign up. They all seemed to think the Gryffindor morale was boosted too high thanks to "that slimy Potter." Hermione was due to face the Slytherin seventh year.  
  
She was immediately without her wand. She ducked and rolled and grabbed the seventh year's wand right from his hand. "Patrificus totalus!" screeched Hermione. The seventh year fell flat on his back. It wasn't a strong body bind, the seventh year tried to break himself free as his hourglass slowly drained. He finally did.  
  
"Accio!" he cried out and his wand flew back from Hermione's hand to his. He muttered something under his breath and a snake shot out of his wand. Professor Dumbledore couldn't believe his eyes. Hermione was stunned. The snake tied up her feet and she fell flat on her back. She saw her wand just on the far edge of the platform. "Accio!"  
  
She had her wand back. "Fernunculus!" The snake was covered in boils and faded away. She barked it again at the Slytherin seventh year and his hourglass lost half it's sand.  
  
"Patrificius totalus!" he shouted. Hermione was in a full body bind but this was very strong. Her hourglass quickly emptied and the match was over.  
  
"Slytherin wins," said a teary-eyed Snape. "Better luck next time, Granger," he said quietly and nastily to her.  
  
"Cheer up Hermione, everyone knows he's going to try that on Harry and he's going to be very embarassed," said Ron.  
  
"Let's just hope he's that dumb," Harry replied. He grinned and turned to the seventh year, standing right behind him.  
  
"You're next, Potter." Harry kept grinning. "You damn Parselmouth." Harry's grin turned into a face of vengeance.  
  
"Try that on me, I dare you. I'll make you eat your stupid snake or better yet make it eat you."  
  
Harry dreamed that night of totally crushing the seventh year. He would have to wait until he beat the Gryffindor fifth year. The following Tuesday they were deeling. Wednesday, if Harry won, he would be facing the Slytherin seventh year and then it was onto the international duels.  
  
"Potter versus Agus!" Harry finally got a good look at Agus. He was very tall and very well built. He gripped his wand like it was his life. Harry immediately tried to disarm him.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" But Agus flew upwards, wand in hand. "Determined, eh?"  
  
"Very," he said with a big smirk. He tried his turn at disarming Harry and succeeded. Harry's wand flew out the doors of the Great Hall. "Better get that thing out of my way."  
  
"Keep it." Harry pointed a finger at him. "I got some new things up my sleeve."  
  
Agus looked at him, obviously confused. Harry couldn't help it, he rolled up his sleeves and his skin glowed white for a fraction of a second. After it stopped, he cried out, "Infernus grandis inflamora!" eyes closed, hands clasped. The ground beneath them rumbled. A wind blew only on Harry and whipped his hair in every direction at high speeds. He heard Agus trip on something. The air turned hot and red hot flames seethed out from Harry's hands. A loud, deep, fire sound followed as if someone was operating a flame thrower. Everyone's head switched between looking at Agus and his hourglass. In a split second, flames engulfed Agus and his hourglass dropped from full to nothing instantly.  
  
When it lifted, Agus was still standing but visibly shaken.  
  
The heat and wind disappeared as suddenly as it appeard. Harry opened his eyes and smiled brightly at Agus who was standing frozen in shock, a look of horror on his face. Dumbledore walked up on the stands and over to Harry with a grave look on his face. The smirk on Harry faded away and he dropped his hands.  
  
"I said no mark, Harry."  
  
"I - I didn't."  
  
"I saw it. Very quick, but I saw it. If you can do the inferno again your win will stand, otherwise you will have to be disqualified." The entire room heard Dumbledore speaking.  
  
Harry didn't know if he could get it out. Snape brought over a chair for Harry to fry.  
  
Harry clasped his hands again. "Infernus grandis inflamora!" Everyone's eyes were on him, watching intently. Nothing. Harry stood there with his hands still closed. "Infernus grandis inflamora!" He stamped his feet and muttered "Come on you stupid spell, work," so no one could hear. "INFERNUS GRANDIS INFLAMORA!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. People covered their ears but his hands gave off no more than a puff of red smoke.  
  
He stood there for about a minute saying the words to himself, "Infernus inflamora... in - fer - nus - grand - is - in - fla - mor - a..."  
  
"Just as I expected, Potter. Come with me," Snape said walking over to him and grabbed his shoulder.  
  
"No. I can do it." He wrenched himself from Snape's grasp and his fingers gave off red puffs of smoke.  
  
"Fine. But this is your last try. You shouldn't be expected to attempt a spell of that stature without the help of your mark." Dumbledore's eyes gave Harry no remorse.  
  
Harry closed his eyes again muttering "work, work, work you stupid spell, come out," under his breath, eyes closed. Snape examined Harry top to bottom to make sure the mark wasn't active. In a deep slow voice he said out loud once again, "Infernus grandis inflamora." The air became extraordinarily hot and Harry heard the chair crack. He opened his eyes as flames shot out of the ground and from his hands engulfing the chair. The familiar flame sound pierced the air. The flames lifted and the chair was no more than a pile of saw dust.  
  
"You did it!" cried Hermione.  
  
"He also broiled the chair," Malfoy said aloud in amazement. Harry walked over to the ashes and a grin cross his faced that looked too big for him.  
  
"The flames reach temperatures well over enough to quite easily incinerate anything," whispered Dumbledore in his ear.  
  
Harry picked up the dust in his hand. It was night and Harry was tired but restless. After Dumbledore walked out he blew the ashes onto Malfoy's hair and ran before Malfoy knew who it was. He followed Ron and Hermione back to the common room avoiding Agus. Agus, however, wasn't to be avoided. Harry took a seat by the fire talking to Ron. Agus was sneaking behind him and sat next to him.  
  
"Good duel, Harry," Agus said nervously.  
  
"Yeah, good... duel."  
  
"So, umm... how'd you do it?"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Inferno." His face looked full of curiosity. "Dumbledore's the only one here that can cast it."  
  
"I don't know." He looked up at Agus. "I tried it a few times with the mark on broken Quaffles. It worked right away, obviously. Didn't think I could do it without the mark."  
  
"Yeah. Well. Better get some sleep. Falder put up quite a fight against Hermione." Harry smiled.  
  
"I have something better for him."  
  
"Oh?" Harry made his skin glow and conjured a small meteor, no bigger than a few inches and held it in his hand. "Wow."  
  
Harry grinned his huge grin again looking almost psychotic with cheer. "Needs to be outside, though. The real spell summons a meteor or comet, a real one, and it comes crashing down at the target. Nearly sent one right onto the castle but last minute I was able to make it change direction and go back up." He sighed. "Not sure I can do it without the mark though. I'll try. One time I tried it and a bird came swooping down." Ron laughed because he was there. The bird crashed into the ground in a flurry of feathers and dirt. The bird wasn't hurt, Snape had given it the immortality potion earlier suspecting Harry's spell might not work.  
  
"Good night," Argus called to Harry as he got up and walked to his bedroom. Neville Longbottom eyed Harry as he walked over to his bed. He was a pure blood, both his parents were wizards, but he was almost as squib, a wizard with next to no ability in magic.  
  
"What, Neville? Want me to burn your chair too?" Neville let out a strange sound and threw his covers over his head. Harry sighed as he put his glasses down and fell to sleep.  
  
Tuesday arrived. Harry was woken up by the rustling and bustling of Ron. The two of them were late for double Potions with Slytherin. If it was anything Harry hated, it was Snape.  
  
"COME ON HARRY WE'RE ALREADY LATE! NO TIME FOR BREAKFAST AND APPARATE US DOWN THERE!" screamed Ron. Harry was immediately awake at the sound of "Snape," "class," and "late." Snapped his fingers once and was dressed, snapped his fingers again and the two of them were sitting in their seats near which a startled Snape peered an eye at them. The two of them never got such a yelling. It was like Snape had sent them a Howler (a letter where the person who sent it's voice was amplified a hundred times normal) and they were getting the full blast.  
  
"AND TO INTERRUPT A LESSON BY APPARATING! ONE - HUNDRED - POINTS - POTTER!" Naturally, this was unfair. They were only ten minutes late. Malfoy casually walked in over twenty minutes and Snape took only ten points from Slytherin. The only reason he did even that was because the Gryffindors could go to Professor McGonagall. This, however, drew the line for Harry.  
  
He pulled out his wand, pointed it at Snape and his skin glowed a blinding white. "Petrificus totalus," he said lazily.  
  
Snape fell backwards unable to do anything but move his eyes at Harry, who found his way to the entrance and stormed out. Harry flung the door open so hard it slammed against the hinges and closed so fast he barely had enough time to walk out of it.  
  
"Ugh! Harry!" screehed Hermione. The Slytherins stood over Snape. The Gryffindors watched Harry as he left the room. It wasn't until he came back thirty minutes later with McGonagall at his side when he removed the curse and Snape stood up. Harry left the classroom as McGonagall ushered the rest of the students out of class. He later found out the result of the huge yelling competition between McGonagall and Snape was that Gryffindor only had five points taken and Slytherin had fifty taken. Harry would never look Snape in the eye again. Snape had seemed to act slightly more humane around him for the rest of the day. Agus suggested it was fear, some Slytherins suggested it was because he was plotting how to get Harry expelled.  
  
Harry didn't talk to anyone the rest of the day. When his professors called on him to answer questions, he merely pointed at Hermione's raised hand. Malfoy had taken a chance at annoying Harry but the end result was Malfoy running off to the hospital wing belching slugs on the way. The slugs were bigger than usual and word had got around it lasted quite a long time. One time he exchanged slugs for small snakes with the words, "Malfoy stinks," across their skin. Harry never stopped getting a kick out of this.  
  
Dinner arrived. Harry's spirits were lifting slightly and he started to talk again.  
  
"Wonder what Snape and McGonagall were yelling over," giggled Ron. Harry saw Professor McGonagall sneak up behind Ron and Hermione. "Bet she gave him more slugs and another full body bind." Harry smiled at McGonagall.  
  
"Maybe someone needs to just talk to him. Everyone needs a hug, you know," smirked Harry.  
  
"Snape really needs to calm himself down. He's going to bust a vessel," added Hermione.  
  
"On the contrary, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley," she barked. Ron and Hermione turned around to look up at her eyes, or slits for that matter. "Dumbledore and I decided that Snape would never be getting the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts permanently unless he treats all students equally." Snape has been teaching both Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts this term. She gave Harry a stern eye. "Naturally he wasn't too happy but I'm sure in time he'll see things my way." She glanced at Hermione and Ron, then stepped away. She said something to Snape and he walked over to them.  
  
"Good luck today, Potter."  
  
"Excuse me?" said Harry, very puzzled.  
  
"You heard me. I said 'good luck.' I can't be mean and misunderstanding all the time now... can I?" Harry didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. "McGonagall, bless her soul, forced me to speak with Dumbledore. We came to a wrenching agreement where I have to take as many points from Slytherin as I do from Gryffindor. Unfortunately it would appear he has put a far-hearing charm on my room which I cannot remove." Snape whipped his cloak around himself, did an about face and walked away disgruntled.  
  
"That man has issues," said Ron quietly. Hermione and Harry nodded. The three of them finished up their dinner eagerly waiting for the final inter-school duel to take place. It couldn't come soon enough. Harry had plenty tension to relieve.  
  
Dumbledore rose and spoke. "Tonight is the final inter-school duel. All other schools have started their tournaments earlier than us so they will be ready after tonight as well. The worldwide duels will start Friday afternoon. Hogwarts will be the host and I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. There will be a total of sixteen contestants. To shorten the time, there will be up to three duels in one day. We hope these will be much quicker as the contestants are much more skilled.  
  
"As for tonight, tonight's duel as you all know by now is Harry Potter and Irenicus Falder!" The room exploded in applause. "Please stand by the walls while I bring out the platform." As soon as everyone was away from the tables, they disappeared and the large platform appeared in the middle of the Great Hall. Harry and Irenicus got on it and went to opposite corners. McGonagall was taking place of Snape tonight in being the referee and Harry couldn't be more relieved. He was dressed in his fake blood cloak and hat again with the same black pants and dark blue sweater. Irenicus wore deep velvet robes torn at the hems on purpose. His pants were a red so deep it looked almost black. He sported a black shirt with a deep green picture of the Slytherin logo on it. Both of them were looking to kill.  
  
McGonagall stood in the center between them. "Fight fair, fight clean." She stepped off the platform and to the side. "Duel!" Falder wasted no time. He conjured the snake again and Harry conjured a small meteor on his hand. Harry grinned.  
  
"Come after me," Harry said to the snake, "and I'll make sure you have a Boa Constrictor eating you tomorrow morning." The crowd gasped. Not everyone knew Harry was a Parselmouth, especially the first, second and third years. The snake quickly obeyed. It had slithered half way to Harry before he finished speaking to it, but it darted around and went towards Falder. Harry chucked the meteor toward him and it landed just short of his foot. It exploded causing the snake to disappear and all but a pinch of sand in Falder's hourglass to disappear.  
  
Falder grinned at Harry. His skin started to sparkle a chaulky gray and then glowed white. Harry, startled, immediately made his skin glow white. His grin grew psychotic and his eyes were wide open. He also had to wonder, how did Falder have the mark? Well, he couldn't possibly be the only one in the world with it... could he? Something didn't seem right about this but why should he worry himself over it.  
  
Dumbledore broke them apart. "No mark! Both of you!" It was too late, Falder started to chant with his eyes closed and the last words Harry heard were "Avada Kedavra."  
  
Harry ducked as a red light smashed into the door causing it to disintegrate. But the death curse gives off a green light? Harry's skin glowed so white, so blinding that no one could look in his direction. Harry closed his eyes as Falder closed his again. Both of them were chanting. The last word from Falder finished again - "Avada Kedavra," Harry heard as he finished his but not even Harry understood the words that escaped him.  
  
Falder's spell faltered and the room grew dark. A very dark, blue hazy sphere emanated from Harry and grew larger with each passing moment. A gust of wind blew only on Harry and it looked like he was standing in the middle of a hurricane. Inside it was a sparse collection of floating white blobs that glowed just like the mark. A deep buzzing that rumbled the very floor filled the room, growing louder and louder. His hair blew in every direction and his cloak whipped around as if it were a rabid snake. All too familiar chaotic voices filled the air. The floor became hot and it burned even through shoes.  
  
The haze reached the walls and the noise turned into a high pitched shriek. It cut off just before it would shatter glass, causing everyone to cover their ears with their hands, and Falder was thrown hard against the wall behind him. The haze suddenly became white for a fraction of a second and quickly faded away. Falder's hourglass expanded and exploded, sending fragments of glass in all directions. People ducked and scattered to avoid them. The voices stopped, the wind died down and Harry stood there, eyes open, looking back at the eyes looking at him. The room was in chaos with people bleeding and tiny fragments of glass all over. Falder's skin stopped glowing and wasn't sparkling. In fact, he didn't seem to be breathing, either.  
  
The look of shock on Ron and Hermione's face began to set in. Harry had done something he clearly shouldn't have. Dumbledore could barely stay on his feet as he rushed over to Harry. Harry didn't understand why his feet were still standing. It felt like they were going to give at any moment. Maybe it was the fear that locked them in place or it was the fact that if he moved, he might faint. He stood perfectly still, hands clasped together as Dumbledore walked up to him.  
  
"I - I don't know," said Harry through heavy breaths. Dumbledore took a quick glance at Falder who now appeared to be breathing again.  
  
"You - must - never... use that spell again. Without proper control it's capable of killing anyone who stands inside the blue haze, including the caster. Somehow, miraculously you concentrated it on one target and his mark prevented it from taking him." Harry never heard such a nervous tone in Dumbledore's words and his knees finally gave way. He fell on them and sat back on his heels looking over at Falder. Everyone in the room was scrambling for the door.  
  
"Is he going to be okay?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Harry didn't hear any more words from anyone as Dumbledore's mouth continued to move. The thought of killing everyone in the room including himself gripped his attention tighter than anyone else could. After a few more moments of heavy panting, he Apparated himself directly onto his bed. He went to sleep in a few minutes; his heavy breathing made him tired.  
  
Harry woke up the next morning with a much different attitude. He tried to forget last night and it seemed to be working well. He sat up on his bed and saw Hermione and Ron getting ready for breakfast.  
  
"Hey, Ron. Hey, Hermione," he said trying to sound cheerful.  
  
"Hello, Potter," they both said back.  
  
"Oh are you not still on about last --"  
  
"Harry you could've killed all of us," interrupted Hermione. "How can you sound so happy after that?"  
  
"But you're all still breathing, aren't you? Even Falder is!"  
  
"Maybe you didn't notice but Dumbledore was very upset with you after you Disapparated and was quite disappointed," said a very upset Hermione. She gave Harry eagle eyes, not unlike the eyes he received from McGonagall and Snape in the past. It was one thing to let Snape down, but letting Dumbledore down, you might as well also give up your last lease on life. "He wants to speak with you after breakfast before our first class."  
  
Would he be expelled? He had done stuff, serious stuff, before but never anything as dangerous as nearly killing a room full of people. Yes, he concluded very quickly, he would be expelled.  
  
"I'll get packing," he said gloomily.  
  
Ron nodded.  
  
None of them knew for sure what Dumbledore wanted but it was sure to be nothing good. He had thought he was going to be expelled before. Three years ago Ron and him flew a car and hit a poor tree that happened to hit back. They were also seen by Muggles which caused a frantic rush to hide the situation from the non-wizard world. The both of them were very surprised to see the look on McGonagall's face when they asked if they should pack their bags.  
  
"Think there's a chance I won't be expelled?" Harry asked in a soft voice. Ron and Hermione shook their heads.  
  
A great weight of depression gripped Harry like never before. Back to the Dursley's for the rest of the his life. He would have to tell Sirius what happened and he would most likely never be on proper terms with Ron or Hermione again. Harry pulled out all of his clothes from the drawers and stuffed them in his trunk. He glanced over at Ron and Hermione very quickly. Ron sat, not looking back but it was clear Hermione's eyes were getting watery. He continued to empty drawers and shelves and stuff all his belongings back into his trunk. He turned over to Hedwig who had been sitting quiet in her cage.  
  
"It's been nice, Hedwig, but I don't think the Dursleys will let me keep you if I don't need you for school."  
  
He opened the cage and Hedwig perched herself on his left shoulder right up against his neck. Harry would miss that. Hedwig herself was better than any gift he's ever gotten from his aunt or uncle. She stretched out her right wing, put her head under her left and nibbled Harry affectionately.  
  
"Ron." Ron didn't look up, he was too busy stuffing his head in a book he obviously wasn't reading.  
  
"Ron," Harry called again, this time poking his back.  
  
"Accio," Harry said, pointing at his faithful Firebolt broomstick.  
  
He lightly hit Ron over the head with it and said, "I won't be needing this anymore... you have it." He dropped the broom in front of Ron but Ron just brushed it onto the floor. "Don't make it harder than it already is Ron," he said half shouting angrily. "You know what I have to go home to." His voice began shuddering. "You two have your parents. I have two people that keep hoping I get killed." Harry slammed the top of his trunk closed. Ron and Hermione didn't speak but Hermione started to cry. "See you from the front cover of the Daily Prophet after -- VOLDEMORT -- finally wins." Hermione sat up and tried to chase after him but he already left. Breakfast had not yet started. Harry hoped he could run up to Dumbledore's office to speak to him before he had to face the rest of the students.  
  
After a few dreadful minutes of walking, he stood in front of Dumbledore's office. The door stone gargoyle guarding the entrance was open and walked up the stairs and he stepped in the office. Dumbledore looked like he expected to see Harry before breakfast.  
  
"Sit down, Harry," said Dumbledore in a somber tone.  
  
"I'm expelled, right?" Harry said back in the same flat tone.  
  
"I'd like a few words with you before I decide on that. You must realize the seriousness of your actions last night. The attitudes of Hermione and Ron do not even begin to reflect the attitudes of some of the other students. Some of them asked me why I hadn't gone right up to your room and expelled you right then and there." Harry tried to speak but his lips would not move.  
  
"We've done all we can to try to protect you. We most likely would have expelled any other student if they were the one who had put Professor Snape in a body bind, or had inflated their aunt or casted a several thousand year old spell everyone hoped would be forgotten. I cannot begin to think what possessed you to cast that spell. McGonagall and I as well as the Ministry of Magic have twisted, bent and created new rules. We still don't know what about you put Lord Voldemort out of the light for so many years. Drawing attention to yourself and causing unneeded commotion doesn't help us. We don't want to lose you until we --" 'Don't want to lose me until?' he thought to himself.  
  
"So that's what it is. I'm just a study you people need to figure out first before you can get rid of me." Harry couldn't explain why those words escaped him before he could push them down.  
  
"Harry, please understand. You're being protected from Voldemort and we do everything we can." This didn't sound like Dumbledore. The right words were usually the only words that came from him. It seemed he didn't know what to say. "Many times people in the Ministry of Magic had suggested we give up saying you'd rather be on your own, responsible for your own actions. I was the one who reminded them what you had to go home to. But rules can only be broken so many times before they can no longer be repaired." He could not believe what he was hearing. "I spoke with some people last night after the incident. Several members of the Ministry were very alarmed --"  
  
"No, don't tell me anymore. I'm expelled and I'm leaving. Don't ask me back if someone changes their mind."  
  
Harry was infuriated at the prospect of being expelled and at having to live with the Durselys for the rest of his life. He half wished Voldemort would just kill him now. Sirius didn't matter anymore and the look on Dudley's face when he would continually taunt Harry haunted him.  
  
"Take my wand, take my robes, take my books, my owl and my stupid broomstick. Good-bye."  
  
Dumbledore's mouth opened again but Harry had Apparated back to his bed. He took nothing with him except the old pajamas from Dudley he wore and Hedwig was left in the office.  
  
There was a knock on the door. Uncle Vernon opened it. 


	3. No Way Out

Chapter 3: NO WAY OUT  
  
  
"I've been expelled, isn't it great?" Vernon stood still listening. "Would you like to see the spell I casted that did it? It's over five thousand years old and very dangerous!" Harry made his skin glow white. Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. Harry felt like disappearing never to be seen again. This was worse than getting killed. He was going to live with the Dursleys for an eternity.  
  
Minutes turned into hours. Hours turned into long days. There was no word from anyone Harry knew and he did little more than eat, sleep and cry himself to sleep. He didn't have any way to contact Sirius - he left Hedwig at Hogwarts and had no way of contacting anyone else. Harry didn't feel like Apparating anywhere, he would rather the whole dream of being a wizard fade into the night. It only took two weeks into his fifth year and he had gotten expelled. He hadn't seen much of the Dursleys the past five years and it came as no surprise they had next to completely forgotten what he liked... or was that on purpose? He was forced to eat food he hated and listen to constant badgering by Aunt Petunia about his hair that would never lay flat. Those long days turned into dry and uneventful weeks. Dry except for the fact that the left side of his pillow had become slightly wet from all the tears.  
  
There were a few things he did enjoy. There was no Malfoy to badger him or Snape to take horrific amounts of points from Gryffindor. The days when he worried about Voldemort coming after him were gone. He had to worry about the Dursleys driving him insane before Voldemort could reach him. His bloodlust attitude ever since that first duel stayed with him and got him in trouble many times. He went without breakfast and dinner after threatening Dudley with snake shoes. The only way the Dursleys could control Harry was to get in touch with the Ministry of Magic and threaten to send him to Azkaban.  
  
One night Harry woke up from a dream involving his mom. She was taking him to platform nine and three-quarters for his first year at Hogwarts. The thought made his lips quiver with sadness. Without thinking, he opened a drawer next to him. Inside it was a book he disctinctly remembered taking to Hogwarts and leaving there when he left, but there it was. Hagrid gave him, at the end of his first year, a photo album, and there it was, sitting alone in a drawer all by itself. On the very first page a beautiful witch and handsome wizard waved at him carrying a baby between them. Harry had hair exactly like the wizard and his eyes were replicas of the witch. Lily and James Potter would be the only two people Harry would think of for the next several weeks. Harry climbed back into bed, rested his head on his slightly wet pillow and gazed at the book which he kept open and fell asleep staring into.  
  
The next morning he was awoken by loud yelling coming from the kitchen. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were arguing loudly over something. Harry looked over to the clock next to him: 9:37 A.M. He hadn't woken up before noon lately. He picked up his glasses, put them on and started down the stairs to see what the commotion was.  
  
Uncle Vernon's yelling made him hide behind a door and listen in.  
  
"Yes, he went for four years!" Uncle Vernon screamed. "What are we going to do, sign him up for high school when he NEVER - EVEN - WENT - TO - MIDDLE - SCHOOL!" Aunt Petunia sat in a chair.  
  
"He has to go back," she said.  
  
"He will not be going back. We gave him up --"  
  
"The cover up is over Vernon," she said crying. "What are we going to do... beat him over the head with frying pans and tell him magic still doesn't exist? Harry's been exposed to it for four years. We can't send him to any other school, he's far too old. I'm not spending all that useless money to send him to a private school and Hogwarts took him for free! FOR - FREE!" Uncle Vernon started muttering something Harry was sure no one could make out. Aunt Petunia continued. "You got a letter from his owl MINUTES AFTER HE CAME HOME!" She gave a big sniff and added, "How come you didn't show it to him?" Her crying became louder and she stood up pacing. Their voices seemed to fade away for a few moments as Harry's thoughts drifted over to Hedwig. She came minutes after he left? How is she, where is he and was she carrying anything?  
  
"I - refuse," Uncle Vernon said stiffly.  
  
"You can't refuse it any longer, Vernon. Hagrid will come back for him if Harry wants them to." She sniffed again and said in a faint voice, "you know that..."  
  
"Let him come. They are under the impression Harry never wants to go back, remember?"  
  
Suddenly Harry felt sick. He remembered his words to Dumbledore, "I'm expelled and I'm leaving. Don't ask me back if someone changes their mind." He wished he hadn't said that, but it seems someone did change their mind. Harry had changed his mind. Their voices faded as he started to remember all the good times at school. The classes, the discovery, the talks with Ron and Hermione... being accepted, not being called a freak...  
  
"At least open the letter, Vernon! You've had it since that day, three weeks ago, and never opened it?"  
  
"Fine." He sat on a chair and tore the envelope open. Harry listened more closely. "Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.  
  
"We regret to inform you that Mr. Harry Potter has been expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The reason of expullsion is life endangerment of fellow classmates and faculty members. Under normal circumstances and due to the spell in question, the student in question would be considered for a term in Azkaban Wizard and Witch Prison." Harry's stomach dropped out of his body. No, they wouldn't send him there... would they? "Only for one week would this sentence take place. We dare not send students for long because as it is known, many inhabitants go insane after several weeks. Full admission to Hogwarts with normal privledges would be allowed afterwards." Uncle Vernon took his eyes off the letter. "What is this... this Azkaban?"  
  
"I don't know," said a twitchy Aunt Petunia.  
  
"I'm sure both of you would like to see me go there," said Harry, stepping out from behind the wall. "I heard all of it, everything." Uncle Vernon's eyes became the familiar slits of rage. His pink face turned an unheard of shade of red. Harry couldn't be scared of him, Azkaban was far more frightening. "With the thought of Azkaban fresh in my mind, you can't scare me. Put the color back in your face because it's rather revolting." Harry then told his uncle to go do something rather naughty.  
  
"GO - TO - YOUR - ROOM!" howled Uncle Vernon.  
  
"No," said Harry softly. "Finish reading the letter or give it to me and I will." Uncle Vernon slapped it against Harry's chest knocking him back a little. Harry grabbed it before it fell.  
  
"Read it aloud so we can hear it," his uncle scowled.  
  
"As an alternative to Azkaban, another punishment has been thought of. The student would be allowed to reattend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy under certain conditions. One being academic probation. That is, the student in question will not be allowed to go to Hogsmeade, will not be allowed outside the castle except for class activities and will not be allowed past his or her House common room for one full term. The other condition for readmission is a term-long study pertaining to wizard and witches falling to the Dark side. See Professor Severus Snape for full details."  
  
"It's settled then," said Uncle Vernon. "You're going to Azkaban."  
  
"WHAT?" shouted Harry. "You're insane. I'm not going there. No one can make me."  
  
"Oh, yes you are." Harry walked back to the door and gave a menacing look.  
  
"Azkaban is guarded by guards called dementors," he said coldly. "You can't see them because you're just a stupid Muggle. You can feel them but they don't affect you, you would just think you are having a bad day. You can't think anything happy and you constantly think of what you hate when you're around them. I'M NOT GOING!" Uncle Vernon tried to speak but Harry interrupted him. "Every time I was around them I fainted. I heard my parents' screaming in my head and then I fainted. Do you have any idea what that's like? I AM NOT GOING!" Harry stormed up the stairs, stomping his feet and slammed the door shut almost breaking it. He didn't come out for breakfast or lunch.  
  
Dinner was quiet that night. The letter from Hogwarts was sitting on top of the refridgerator. Dudley tried to turn on the television but Aunt Petunia barked "Off," at him. Uncle Vernon simply ordered two full pizza pies and two dozen garlic knots. After two slices and three knots, Harry grabbed the letter and went up to his room. He had never finished reading it.  
  
"The decision is up to the guardian of the student. Further CONTACT MUST BE MADE WITHIN TWO WEEKS or it will be assumed that the student and/or guardians have no interest in readmission Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore  
Headmaster"  
  
Harry's heart nearly stopped. It was Uncle Vernon's fault. He wished his heart did stop, because it seemed hopeless. Harry crawled into his bed, still in his pajamas that he wore a week ago. He has not showered for two weeks because he didn't feel like doing much of anything and Uncle Vernon would only complain he was wasting water. He sat in bed thinking, dreaming, wondering and hoping beyond hope something would come to his rescue. Azkaban didn't look that bad right now. He wanted to be left alone, all alone... and he was alone and with no one by his side. There was no Sirius to talk himelf dry to and speak his heart out to, no Dumbledore to express his concerns with and the Weasleys could at least provide the comforts of a real home. It was the worst feeling anyone could ever experience.  
  
It was a long night and Harry woke up frequently with scenes of previous years fresh in his mind. Painfully happy memories passed including the end of year banquets and the start of each new year. The most painful memories were the times he saw his parents even if they were just a memory. Harry didn't get much sleep. The thought of returning to Hogwarts started to build and he couldn't let go. There has to be a way to get back, there just has to. Would he pay Dumbledore a visit and explain the situation? How, though? They would clearly not be happy to see him if he just Apparates.  
  
Breakfast the next morning was awkward. All three Dursleys had already started eating when Harry strolled in bleary-eyed.  
  
"Make yourself something and try not to make a mess," snarled Aunt Petunia. Harry grunted at her. "Vernon, dear, have you heard anything from your boss about that new job you may be changing to?"  
  
"New job?" asked Harry. "Oooh, did you do something really bad this time?" Uncle Vernon made a threatening face but Harry put a finger up and said, "Don't - touch - me. Now that Hogwarts has no control over me they won't know what I do." Uncle Vernon's face became a nice shade of purple and Dudley grabbed his backside. Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had given Dudley a pig's tail picking Harry up for school for the first time and Dudley had been scared about it ever since.  
  
Harry grabbed two slices of bread and a stick of butter from the fridge. He put them into the toaster and waited impatiently. The room was filled with a wrenching silence except for the clatter of teeth, crunching of food and swallowing of drink. Dudley broke the tension by getting up and turning the television in the next room on. Uncle Vernon walked over and lowered it to the point it almost couldn't be heard. A muffled metal clanking coming from the cupboard under the stairs broke more silence.  
  
"What's that?" asked Harry.  
  
"Must be bugs," said Uncle Vernon trying to sound innocent.  
  
"Bugs?" Harry asked. "Bugs don't make sounds that loud and they don't sound like metal."  
  
"No need to worry," said Aunt Petunia nervously. Harry's toast popped and he buttered it with a plastic knife. He took Dudley's empty seat and after one bite, the muffled noise was now something heavy banging into a wall. Harry got up but Aunt Petunia motioned him to sit down.  
  
"Why don't you finish eating, dear, and then you can go back to your room?" she said nervously.  
  
Harry took a bite of his toast and took out his wand he hid inside the pajamas. What were they playing at?  
  
"HARRY-"  
  
"Alohomora," he said calmly, pointing it at the cupboard. The door bursted open and Hedwig's cage hovered about the top. "Hedwig!" Harry cried as he ran over to her. It was most definitely the best feeling he felt in three weeks. She looked rather thin and unkempt. He opened the cage and tried to wrestle Uncle Vernon as he tried to close it. "Wingardium leviosa!" he said pointing his wand at Uncle Vernon who rose up and out of the cupboard and landed with a thud on the kitchen table. Hedwig perched herself on Harry's shoulder and he walked into the kitchen. Uncle Vernon had stood up and Aunt Petunia sat with a piece of pancake sticking out of her front teeth.  
  
"You had her all this time," said Harry in disgust, "and you didn't tell me?" Harry turned his head to look at her. She gave a low hoot of hunger. "What have you been feeding her, nothing?" He picked one piece of his toast, put her on the table and let her nibble it. "No, don't tell me." He rubbed Hedwig's front with his arm and she climbed on. He picked up the toast with the other hand and kept it near her beak so she could eat it and went back to his room. Harry finished the piece he started eating as he drudged up the stairs and slammed his door shut at the approaching Uncle Vernon, but not before giving him a naughty sign with his hands. Uncle Vernon banged on the door heavily. Harry summoned a Patronus (an anti-dementor) knowing it would fly through the door and scare him - and it was fully successful. Uncle Vernon screamed ear-piercingly loud and tumbled down the stairs. Hedwig sat at the foot of his bed. Harry plopped down in the middle.  
  
Now that he had some reasonable way of contacting someone, now what? He decided it be best to flatly tell to Dumbledore what happened with no frills or ridiculous stories. He grabbed a Muggle pen, ripped a blank page from the Sunday newspaper and began to write.  
  
Professor Dumbledore:  
  
I have quite a situation and I have no idea what I'm doing these days. I'll just tell it as it comes because I don't know where to start. My uncle hid the letter you sent us from me for three weeks. I woke up this morning to hear them yelling. Uncle Vernon finally opened it. He's keen on sending me to Azkaban but there's no way I would stay even if you told me to. So now I'm stuck regretting I said I never wanted to come back.  
  
Good thing I found Hedwig. They had her locked up in the cupboard under the stairs. Please have someone look at her when she arrives, she looks ill.  
  
Harry tried to think of what else to write, but no words came, only one drop of a tear. He ended it with his siganture. "Come Hedwig," he said. She fluttered onto his knee and lifted a foot so Harry could tie the letter to it. Harry found a thin string on the floor that suited the job. "Hurry, Hedwig, please!" he said pleadingly. She flew onto his arm and he opened the window. She flew out of it faster than Harry ever saw and she was out of sight after he blinked.  
  
Harry utterly refused to speak to anyone for the rest of the day. All food from lunch and dinner went up with him to his room where he had started to read a book entitled "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring" he snatched from Aunt Petunia. Harry could see the nervous twitching she made every time he was around her. It wasn't clear to anyone if it was worry over what he would do next, or if she was actually hoping he'd get to go back to Hogwarts. Of course, he also didn't know if she wanted him to go back just to get rid of him or to go back because she knew he was terribly lonely... and full of hate. Indeed, Harry's heart never hung lower, his pride never ran so thin and his temper was never shorter. He had amounted a stack of empty dishes and cups leaving them near the door hoping someone would trip on them. He crawled into bed when the clock hit 1:54 A.M. Harry dreamed, but it wasn't like the others in recent weeks.  
  
He flew in the air and Hogwarts slowly came into view. It was dead of night and the forbidden forest looked even worse from this angle. He was a lot smaller than usual and attempted to land on a window on one of the towers. Instead, he barreled into the floor and bumped into the far wall. Dazed, he got up and fluttered over to the shoulder of an old man standing up. He lifted his leg, which looked a lot like one of Hedwig's, and the old man, Professor Dumbledore, still awake, took the note attached to it and sat down beginning to read. He watched as Dumbledore's lips moved with every word.  
  
"I have quite a situation and I have no idea what I'm doing these days. I'll just tell it as it comes because I don't know where to start. My uncle hid the letter you sent us from me for three weeks. I woke up this morning to hear them yelling. Uncle Vernon finally opened it. He's keen on sending me to Azkaban but there's no way I would stay even if you told me to. So now..." Dumbledore paused and put a worried hand over his mouth as he gazed at the final words. "...i'm stuck regretting I said I never wanted to come back," he said in disbelief.  
  
Dumbledore looked very worried and concerned. He nearly stepped on Harry as he fell off his shoulder when he jerked to stand up. Dumbledore placed the letter in front of him on his desk and stared at it. Harry flew onto Dumbledore's shoulder again and Dumbledore brought him out of his office. The dream faded to black.  
  
The next morning Harry awoke to find himself on his side facing left. He opened his eyes. Hedwig was cuddled up against Harry's left arm. He moved his arm and she immediately woke up and fluttered around, stumbling to balance herself. She looked a lot healthier than she did just one day ago. Harry sat up bleary eyed. Hedwig flew onto his shoulder and rested her head on her back, she looked very tired. Harry opened his door, walked downstairs and again found the Dursleys eating before him.  
  
As soon as Harry stepped in, Uncle Vernon turned his attention to him.  
  
"Harry, got another letter from your school. Might wanna read this."  
  
"Accio," said Harry, staring at the letter, and it flew into his hand. Uncle Vernon looked rather displeased with that. Harry sat down and read it in silence. It appeared to be directly from Dumbledore.  
  
Dear Mr. Potter  
  
I received your letter and attended to the task of putting Hedwig in better health. There is, unfortunately, nothing I can do about readmitting you into Hogwarts. Rules are rules, Harry, and Professor McGonagall and I have decided to not bend rules to see if the Ministry of Magic would step in (I sent a copy of your letter to them as soon as Hedwig could leave). It does, unfortunately, look grim. I cannot guaruntee you anything and in fact it may be safe to say you should try life as a Muggle.  
  
I tried, Harry. I do not know why you casted that spell.  
  
Dumbledore didn't know why? Falder tried to use the Killing Curse on him! That's good enough reason as any but why was the light red instead of green? Harry quickly remembered a lesson in Professor Lupin's class where he mentioned a spell's color can change but that it is very rare. He didn't imagine the color, did he? He decided it would be best to not push the thought, Dumbledore might start to think Harry was losing it.  
  
Harry was losing it. During lunchtime, Aunt Petunia asked Harry to pass her the ketchup. The bottle was empty and so instead he passed her the refridgerator, ripping the plug right out of the wall and opened the door so she could grab another bottle. During dinner that night, Harry didn't feel like eating meatloaf and rice so he turned the meat loaf into a hamburger and the rice into fries. When Dudley asked Harry if he would do the same for him, Dudley instead had his meatloaf turned into spinach and his rice became string beans. Harry stormed away as Dudley passed his food straight into the garbage. Dudley didn't eat dinner that night. It would do Dudley good - afterall, everyone could plainly see his was wider than he was tall. Harry started to call Dudley "Wideley" when they were alone that same night and threatened to give him a pig snout if he squealed.  
  
Two mornings later, Uncle Vernon overheard Harry talking to Wide, er, excuse me, Dudley. Uncle Vernon yelled so loudly and blew so much air at Harry that his hair looked like he stuck his finger into a socket. Harry brought his toast up to his room (he made three pieces behind Aunt Petunia's back), let Hedwig have some orange juice and fed her one of the three pieces. Harry began to brainstorm of ways to get out, or, better yet - find a way to get back to Hogwarts. Hedwig walked wherever Harry went, she was always on his shoulder. Occasionally she did laps around the living room. This started to make everyone else nervous but Harry reminded them it was either that, her crying at night and them getting no sleep. Hedwig was always remarkably tame, but that afternoon, Dudley went to the bathroom and Hedwig had been eating his lunch (Uncle Vernon was at work and Aunt Petunia was busy doing laundry). When Dudley went after Hedwig, he found himself getting a barrage of pecks on the head. Harry realized this was so he didn't have to feed her whatever horrible dinner Aunt Petunia would make that night.  
  
He couldn't take much more of this. All Harry did during his spare time was reread Lord of the Rings and plot ways of escaping. It had been four weeks since he was expelled now. It just turned 1:00 A.M. and like every night since four weeks ago, he sat in bed bored, thinking, dreaming... Life looked dismal. The only joy he could think of were the looks on the Dursleys' faces every time he used magic but there was much to hate. Salvation had to come soon because he just might go looking for Voldemort.  
  
Harry took out the photo album again and flipped through it. There was only one picture of Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. It was him who he thought he would be spending the rest of his days with. Sirius, a father figure, a wizard with whom he could talk to endlessly and not be badgered about being strange and unsual. He had talked himself empty to Sirius once before and now was another time he wished he could do it again. Hedwig sat on the windowsill facing in. Harry crawled into bed propping himself up on pillows staring dreamily into the picture of Sirius and his parents at their wedding day.  
  
A soft pop broke the silence. Hedwig gave a hoot of worry and Harry bolted upright onto his feet. What was that? Could it be someone trying to come in by Floo powder? Wizards can travel by fireplace using powder. It was Harry's least favorite form of transportation. He pushed his door open just enough to sneak through. The sound came again, it was coming from the living room. Harry slowly descended the creaking stairs. He reached the bottom and heard the pop again. Harry turned into the kitchen. There was nothing there.   
  
"Ok, then. Back upstairs, Harry," something said inside his head.  
  
The owner of the voice could not be made out. He didn't listen right away. Harry looked at the fireplace but it was fine. In fact, it was boarded up. No one would try to come through their fireplace. Before Harry knew he was a wizard, a flurry of letters came bursting out of it, all letters telling him he was accepted to Hogwarts. Uncle Vernon boarded it up. In his fourth year at Hogwarts, the Weasleys found themselves stuck inside and bursted through it. Uncle Vernon boarded it up again.  
  
"Upstairs, Harry! Up! Now!" said a different voice.  
  
Harry didn't have much choice. He was certifiably insane now... Harry had heard voices before only he could hear, but they were psychotic voices, voices from a deadly monster. He drudged up the stairs, down the short hallway and snuck back into his room. There were two people, both dressed in a black cloak and robes. One sat on his bed. The other was standing near Hedwig. Harry recognized them immediately.  
  
Sirius Black and Severus Snape. Harry shut his door and backed against it not believing his eyes. He put his hands over his mouth and tried not to scream. Sirius approached him and pulled both Harry's hands down.  
  
"Harry, you know why we're here," he said. Harry swallowed twice before he could reply.  
  
"You, maybe... but... Snape?" Snape was sitting on the bed and didn't get up as he spoke.  
  
"You know I wouldn't be here unless I had a very good reason, Potter." What was he talking about? "You should tell him, Black. I don't think I can."  
  
"Tell me what?" Harry said, still clearly shocked about their sudden arrival. Thoughts raced through his head. What are they doing here, what do they have to say and most importantly... what took them so damn long?  
  
"The mark, Harry. You feel it, I know you do. You're not acting yourself and it's not just the Dursleys." Sirius lit his wand and put it near Harry's hands. "Look at your hands. They're glittering and it's not golden, it's black." He was right. Harry took a long look at his hands, flipping them over. The mark was glittering black like a smoky-quartz rock off the light. It looked exactly like a shiny black rock reflecting back more sunlight than there was hitting it. It glittered too brightly for the feeble amount of light around them. Suddenly the black glitter turned golden again. A slight feeling of relief swept over Harry.  
  
"Voldemort," said Snape coldly. Harry felt his feet inch forward and his back slid down the door while still looking at his hands. The name still brings chills. He wasn't acting himself. Harry was feeling far more angry with himself and others around him than usual. Something gripped his throat. Something was making him angrier than usual and it was all painfully obvious. "Tell me, Potter. Why did you cast that spell on Falder?"  
  
"I," he started but choked and swallowed the next word. "I heard him cast the Killing Curse. He aimed it at me... w-why wouldn't I try to defend myself," he said in a high pitched squeal. Snape and Sirius exchanged confused looks.  
  
Sirius looked at Harry like he had three heads. "Harry, Falder casted a reduction charm."  
  
"Reduc - what, no. I heard it, Avada Kedavra!" said Harry, pointing out the window. Snape gave Hedwig a hard push and she fell out the window. The green light shot out from Harry's hand and bursted upon the wall of the next house. Hedwig fluttered upwards and gave Harry and unmistable look of disgust then flew onto the next roof. Something hit Harry like a tidal wave of realization. He did see the red light, but he distinctly heard the chant of the Killing Curse.  
  
"Potter, the real reason I took fifty points from Slytherin and only five from Gryffindor was because I suspected it then," said Snape worriedly (and that was a tone Snape never took around Harry). Snape nodded at Sirius, who nodded back, as if he just confirmed something to himself. "Something's influencing your actions."  
  
"What? Suspected what?"  
  
"THE MARK, POTTER!" he thundered. This was not a good time to be screaming.  
  
"Snape!" snapped Sirius. They all knew what was coming. A door swung open, the hallway light turned on and Uncle Vernon banged on Harry's door. Harry sat frozen, maybe if he sat there Uncle Vernon would just go away. He pushed again, this time sending Harry over to the side. The door flung open. Uncle Vernon stood there with a bat in his hand but with the expression on his face, he had no intention of using it.  
  
"OUT YOU FREAKS! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUT!" His eyes were about to pop from his face, which if turned any more red, blood might just start leaking out. His face swelled. Harry didn't waste any time calling for Hedwig, stuffing her in her cage, holding his trunk, pulling Sirius and Snape next to him and Apparating the lot to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade.  
  
Harry stood on his feet for a fleeting moment before staggering and taking a seat on a nearby chair. Every heard turned, as it was still quite full. Not one person did not have their attention turned to Harry and all conversations stopped. He felt sick. Something was wrong, Sirius was right. He had been feeling something ever since the game of Fire Quidditch. He didn't feel much more until he had Snape in a body bind. Harry put his arms down on the table and hid his head inside them.  
  
"Someone better explain what's going on," he said softly.  
  
"Four butterbeers," Sirius called to the bartender.  
  
"Four?" the bar tender asked. "There's only three of you?"  
  
"Yes, one for Snape and I and two for Harry." Harry lifted his head up and a disfigured smile was visible. He rested his chin on his hands. This was going to be a long talk and the more butterbeer the better.  
  
"The Fire Quidditch game, you didn't want to play, but you did anyway. Why?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry replied softly. "Ron said a few things to me and... and then I just felt like playing." Sirius put his butterbeer to his lips and drank what could only be half the goblet.  
  
"It didn't seem... odd... that you didn't want to play for several weeks claiming you'd get yourself killed, which mind you, you almost did, and out of one minute's thought you were playing? Then, at the inter-school dueling tournament, you would usually never ask for such limelight. You must not remember hearing Dumbledore say many, many people have accidently died due to failed potions or a barrage of spells that caused the potion to finally give up. You were sleeping. Hermione told me. But you weren't tired she said. Someone put you out and that's what worries me." Harry's face turned red. That must have been the part he missed during the explanation of rules the night before the first duel. Sirius put his butterbeer down... it was indeed half empty.  
  
Sirius continued. "When you put Snape in a full body bind, he came right to me and told me what happened. Dumbledore and him hadn't decided that he would never get the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, that was just to fool you. Snape is teaching Dark Arts Defense because Dumbledore suspected something back at the Fire Quidditch game. Snape's got more experience in the Dark Arts than the rest of us, his judgement call would be best. In fact, the school has been shut down in your absence." Harry's eyebrows arched. What is going on?  
  
"What is going on?" he repeated out loud. Harry picked his head up and sat upright.  
  
"The Mark of Ancients," started Snape, "comes from ancient wizards as you know. It's been known to disappear and never come back, like you also know. What we didn't tell you, because we feared it would happen sooner, is that it can be used against the bearer." He grabbed Harry's hand and held it between both of his. "Make it glow white," he ordered. Harry did so. The gold glitter faded to black and the black turned into a white glow. Snape's skin started to glitter gold. To Harry's utter disbelief, the gold became black and Snape let off a distinct black glow. "This look familiar, Potter?" He saw this before, Irenicus Falder's skin glittered a grayish then glowed a solid black.  
  
"Falder-"  
  
"Yes," said Sirius interrupting him. Snape's butterbeer, too, was now half empty. There was a few moments silence. All eyes were still peering at the three of them.  
  
"The other worrying part is we can only guess who is involved. We don't have answers and there's only one guess we can agree on."  
  
"Oh, when is Voldemort going to give up!" said Harry, rubbing his eyes. Everyone heard and Harry distinctly saw a few people shudder at the name. "Yes, Voldemort," he repeated, looking around. "IF HE'S BEEN AFTER YOU FOR FOURTEEN YEARS," he shouted ignoring Sirius', "Shh!" and continued on, "YOU GET SICK OF CALLING HIM You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" he said doing a fake imitation of people saying the nicknames and flailing his arms in disgust. Harry hid his beat-red face in his arms again. His skin glowed, but not white. It was black. He picked his head up just enough to look around. He peered at everyone in the room. "Look at someone else!" he said in a helpless teared voice. He turned to Sirius. "Help me," he said softly, then started to sob and put his head back into his arms. Harry excited himself into tears and there was no explanation other than anxiety... anxiety over what Ron, Hrmione and Dumbledore would have to tell him.  
  
"It's a lot to take in for one night," Sirius said calmly to Snape. "That and he's not himself. Be ready for sudden breakdowns, it's common when a wizard is trying to fight off a controlled mark. Rapid mood swings are also common."  
  
"I think another question is when are the Azkaban guards going to be arriving," Snape reminded him.  
  
Their mouths falling open, the three of them completely forgot Sirius was supposed to be in hiding. Sirius Disapparated and Harry was left with just Snape. Great turn of events, Harry thought to himself. Being left alone with the Dursleys is bad enough, but Snape, that's another nightmare. The sickening worry of Sirius getting the Dementor's Kiss was another thing that now would burden him. A dementor's kiss is not only very putrid but it sucks the soul out of the victim, leaving them as a mindless, thoughtless and emotionless nothing. Harry had once been kissed by a dementor. He was, however, miraculously saved.  
  
"Come on, Potter," Snape continued. "I'll put aside my distaste because there are more pressing matters." Snape muttered something under his breath and everyone went back to talking to amongst themselves... it must have been a memory charm. "You haven't touched your butterbeer."  
  
"You can have one, I don't want both." Harry picked his head up and drank one entire goblet with one gulp. Snape raised an eyebrow. Harry took the other one but took two gulps to drink the entire thing this time.  
  
"Dumbledore said to return you to Hogwarts should anything else happen other than what we intended..." Harry looked up at him. "And we didn't intend for you to try and kill Hedwig," Snape said flatly. Harry's spirits livened. Finally, he was going to back to Hogwarts. "We will Apparate to Hogsmeade in the morning and take a train to Hogwarts. Albus is waiting to tell you something and it is good news, for a change." He licked his lips and stood up. "In the mean time I suggest you get some sleep... you're drooling on yourself."  
  
Harry's mouth was wide open and a small amount of drool had dropped down his shirt. Snape opened Hedwig's cage and she landed on Harry's shoulder like usual. The three of them Apparated into The Leaky Cauldron. Snape checked Harry and himself into separate rooms.  
  
Harry felt like he was resting on clouds amidst all the bad news. His head was clearer than it had been these past four weeks. Hedwig had returned to full health. Despite the news of his mark, he could feel nothing but happy for finally being out of the Dursley house and the thought of going back to Hogwarts amongst all his friends only brought him closer to cloud nine. Harry slept well that night. He had nothing to worry about. Everything was going to be just fine. 


	4. Miraculum Sensi

Chapter 4: MIRACULUM SENSI  
  
  
Next morning Harry was woken up by Snape shaking him.  
  
"Wake up, Potter. We have to go now." Harry didn't ask questions. The faster he moved, the more likely he was to be rid of Snape sooner. Snape stepped out. Harry took out a black cloak, a dark red sweater (not unlike the first one he got from Mrs. Weasley as a Christmas present) and beiege pants from his trunk and got dressed. He started to like this style of clothing a lot more than standard Muggle clothes. He knocked on the door and Snape walked in.  
  
"Now, to Hogsmeade. Better you do it so we don't get separated." Harry grabbed Snape's hand, put his foot on his trunk and held Hedwig's cage. His skin glowed white and with a pop, they appeared at the Hogsmeade train station. "You seem to want to get rid of me."  
  
"What gives you that impression?" said Harry sarcastically.  
  
"Nevermind our personal vendettas. The train leaves in five minutes. Get on." They took seats across from each other on the Hogwarts Express and didn't talk for the entire trip.  
  
When they arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid had been waiting for them.  
  
"Hey there, Harry!" he called out.  
  
"Hey, Hagrid," said Harry cheerfully.  
  
"Professor Snape, Dumbledore be wantin' ter see you after Harry," Hagrid said to Snape. Snape walked out of sight and up to the castle. Hagrid turned his attention to Harry. "Serious stuff goin' on. Better get up ter Dumbledore." The two of them took the same path as Snape up to the castle.  
  
Dumbledore was waiting for the two of them just inside.  
  
"Harry, come with me. Hagrid, please inform Minerva of Harry's arrival." This sounded like they were planning it for weeks.  
  
"Yes, sir." Hagrid trotted off.  
  
"Indeed, we have been planning this for weeks." Dumbledore started to walk. Harry followed. "I hope Severus and Sirius have told you all they could?"  
  
"They told me a lot."  
  
"Let me remind you while we go to my office. Cornelius Fudge is waiting there."  
  
"Mr. Fudge?-" Cornelius Fudge is the Ministry of Magic himself.  
  
"The bottom line, after all is said and done, is Voldemort is controlling the mark for you. It is a miracle you have been able to contain it. A great deal of wizards have completely lost control and acted as if they were under the influence of the Imperius Curse. They were thought to be Death Eaters until someone noticed their mark glowed black, not golden. It is clear that it must be removed." Harry stopped walking. No, he can't just remove it, just like that. "It must be removed, Harry, or there's no telling what Voldemort has planned," said Dumbledore gravely. There was no sincerity behind the half-moon spectacles. Dumbledore's face was straight and gave off nothing other than certainty.  
  
"He could use you as a Death Eater. He could have you kill thousands. He could make you kill yourself. The problem is..." Dumbledore paused and heaved a sigh. "...we do not have the resources to do so," he said quickly as if he couldn't bare to say it. "Only one person does and I think you know who that is." Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder and pulled it forward but Harry didn't move.  
  
"No, you can't expect me to just let Voldemort take me and do whatever he wants. That's a death wish!" Harry cried. "It happened during the summer and look... look what almost happened!"  
  
"We - have - no - other - choice," said Dumbledore sharply. "We are taking precautions-"  
  
"Precautions? You better give me a heavy dose of that immortality potion. Better yet, suck my blood out and replace it with that." Harry leaned against a nearby wall and fell limp against it, once again sliding down. He put both elbows on his knees and grabbed his right knee with his left hand. Harry rested his right cheek on his right arm which bent up covering his scar with his forearm. He stared at the floor between his legs. Words were currently out of reach. Voldemort would have him and he would have to wait until he attempted to remove the mark, if that was even his intention.  
  
"How do you know he's going to try to remove it from me?" said Harry worriedly. He took deep and slow breaths like he was going to break down any minute. The thought made him sink into depression. "Why wouldn't he just use it?"  
  
"I don't know," said Dumbledore sighing again. "I don't know," shaking his head at Harry. "Which, you see, describes the graveness of the situation." Fudge was walking up to them and listening in. "We have... two options. Let Voldemort take you and see what he tries. Or, continue as normal and see what happens. Neither choice looks to have good consequences. Taking action or not is not possible because both choices leave Voldemort free to do something."  
  
"Maybe I can offer some light," said Fudge. "We can't remove the mark because it requires a very skilled, very powerful and very determined group of people. Voldemort has the Death Eaters to do this for him, right?"  
  
"Yes," said Dumbledore eyeing him carefully. Harry pointed his right arm straight up and rolled his head right so he could look at up at Fudge.  
  
"Right. Well, he tried to remove it once and failed. He will try again, I have no doubt."  
  
"Don't I have a say in this?" asked Harry. Dumbledore bent down in front of him and straightened Harry's right arm so it pointed forward, turned his head straight and looked him in the eye.  
  
"I do not know what we are going to do yet. It is safer for us to let you fall in Voldemort's hands but it is safer for you to stay here." Harry took his head off his forearm and watched Dumbledore stand up. "We only have two options and both are just as ill-fated." Dumbledore shook his head in worry. It was clear from the look on his face that for once he didn't have any answers.  
  
"In other matters, Hogwarts will reopen and Harry will be put on watch." Hagrid and McGonagall were coming down the hall. Dumbledore waved them over. "Ah, just in time." Dumbledore began to look slightly happier. McGonagall looked down and jumped at the sight Harry.  
  
"Harry!" she blurted out.  
  
"He is fine, Minerva. Just fine," said Dumbledore reassuringly.  
  
"For now," grunted Harry.  
  
"Minerva, please ask Gryffindor to meet in the Great Hall. Cornelius, if you would do the same for Hufflepuff, Hagrid for Ravenclaw and I will inform Slytherin."  
  
"Yes, sir," said Hagrid. Minerva reached a hand down to Harry's outstretched arm, which he grabbed tight, and she pulled him up.  
  
"Come now, Harry," she said. They hadn't walked more than a few feet from the Great Hall. Up the stairs, down the hall, around the swirling staircase and through the portrait hole they went. All House common rooms were guarded by a portrait. You had to give the living picture the correct password or you would not be allowed to enter. Behind each picture was solid stone wall, any attempts at passing were futile without it. The entirety of Gryffindor was in the commons. McGonagall stood in the center. All eyes looked up at her. Harry walked in through the portrait hole and all eyes were then fixed on him. He stopped dead and stood just inside the portrait hole.  
  
"Can I have your attention, please, everyone?" said McGonagall looking around at everyone. "As you can see, Harry is fine. Those of you who were worrying for four weeks straight can now rest a little easier." At the last few words, she stared at Hermione, who blushed. "Please file into the Great Hall. Professor Dumbledore wishes to make an announcement on the current state of events." Harry realized now that word of what happened spread around the school... and most likely they knew what was going on before he did.  
  
The four tables were set up and Gryffindor arrived with Hufflepuff close behind. McGonagall went to the front of the Hall and took her usual seat. Dumbledore followed with Slytherin behind him. He waited by the entrance and after another minute, Ravenclaw walked in with Fudge taking up the rear. Dumbledore and Fudge took seats up front. Snape stepped in and sat aside Dumbledore. It seemed the other teachers were not present.  
  
When everyone was finally sitting, Dumbledore stood up to speak. "As you all know by now, Harry did not cast Clades Ultimus on his own free will." His words were definitely not calming the high tension. The students listened with a panicked ear, occasionally quickly glancing in Harry's direction.  
  
"Hogwarts will reopen," he continued, taking a deep breath, "and Mr. Potter will be put under watch. I must warn you that in his condition he is prone to mood swings and violent, erratic behavior as well as sudden breakdowns." Great, Harry thought to himself. He needed the world to know he would act more like a freak than the Dursleys ever thought possible. "Please, keep calm. Any strange happenings should be reported directly to myself or Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Classes will start this Monday and the international school duels will begin tomorrow afternoon." He stopped talking for a moment to catch another deep breath. "Well, that is all for now. Happy feasting," he said as the plates filled with breakfast. At a quick glance at Hermione, he found out the time was 8:00 A.M.  
  
Breakfast seemed normal enough. He hadn't eaten normally in four weeks and as such he ate like what Hermione called a "pig." Dumbledore walked over to Harry a few minutes after he finished making his announcement. Harry turned around and looked up at him.  
  
"Harry, I'd like to let you know that you were, quite obviously, the one representing Hogwarts at the school championship. As this competition is quite fierce, you are allowed to use your mark. But this time, please, refrain from using spells any more potent than Inferno." He smiled a quick smile. "I decided in a few minutes that I would like to keep you here and see what course of events take place." Harry listened intently. "I must ask you, why did you use Clades Ultimus on Falder?"  
  
It was time to find out, Harry thought, if he was really going insane. "I heard him use Avada Kedavra. I-It was just a reaction. But the light was red, not green?" Dumbledore seemed to be staring right through Harry in deep thought for a few moments.  
  
"You know he was simply going for the Reduction curse? Professor Lupin, on review of what he was doing in classes, told me he went over color changing spells. You remember that a spell's color can change. I do believe you heard the words for the Killing Curse and not the Reduction Curse but I have no explanation as to why, other than Voldemort's grasp took control and made you hear what he wanted you to hear. In which case, you would be at every right to defend yourself. Harry, do watch yourself and try to be on full alert of your actions.  
  
"It is my hope the duels will be a vent and you should return to normal or at least curb some violent behavior. The first one tomorrow starts with you." He smiled brightly this time. "And do try to not kill anyone." Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulder and shook it gently like a son. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but it seemed he thought better of his words. "Good luck, Harry." Harry, Ron and Hermione watched Dumbledore as he walked away.  
  
"How you feelin', Harry?" asked Ron looking at him with worried eyes.  
  
"Rotten," replied Harry shortly. "You ever get that feeling your guts are being ripped out of you but then suddenly you wish they would because you just feel like nothing matters anymore?" Ron and Hermione were speechless at this. Harry had never said anything like that to them before and wished he didn't say it. He finished the rest of his breakfast and walked quietly back to his four-post bed. Neither Ron nor Hermione followed.  
  
When he reached his bed, he laid on it, legs straight out and folded, hands propping his head up and staring into the ceiling as if it weren't there. He had no idea what was to come. Would he be responsible for killing hundreds of people without being able to stop himself? Questions like this would be haunting him in the time to come. Even more pressing, did Sirius get away? Hedwig landed next to Harry's head, cuddling up next to his cheek. The warmth of her feathers was a small comfort that he really needed. He pulled one hand out from behind his head and stroked her back thoughtlessly while still staring at the ceiling.  
  
Ron had come up. "Harry, you aren't going to sit there all day, are you?"  
  
"Yes," Harry replied sharply and with that he turned over to face the wall, his back to Ron. Hedwig stayed where she was and Harry's nose was now poking her side. She fluttered away. "Hedwig doesn't want my company. Why would you?" he snapped. Hedwig, angry at that, pecked him on the foot. Harry kicked his foot up sending Hedwig barreling across the room. Ron caught her before she hit the floor. "Go away," he snorted. Ron muttered something under his breath Harry was glad he didn't have to listen to. He would be spending the rest of the day here, thinking about virtually nothing. That way, he reasoned, he wouldn't have to think about the things he hated. The small pleasures in life that used to cheer him up were just that -- small.  
  
Suddenly, Harry had a change of heart. Before he could say he was sorry, Ron had already left.  
  
The next morning, Harry could not wait for the afternoon to come to start the first duel. He did nothing but eat breakfast, go back to his room, come out for lunch and eat that and then wait in the Great Hall twitching with excitement. He didn't bother to speak to Ron, who wasn't speaking to him to begin with, or Hermione who desperately tried to get him to talk to her ("HARRY, THERE'S A SPIDER ON YOUR CHIN!"). What Hermione didn't know was that Harry had much experience with spiders during his years in the cupboard under the stairs. They no longer phased him.  
  
Dumbledore walked in to see Harry sitting at the table. He didn't notice he had been there since an hour before (for lunch). He was staring straight at the wall with a blank expression with his hands folded in his lap. Dumbledore took a seat next to him, stared at the wall for a few seconds then turned his head towards Harry.  
  
"Hermione tells me you've been here since lunch." Dumbledore paused and waited for Harry to answer. He didn't. "So-"  
  
"When's the first duel start?" Harry said quickly.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Well, at least you are keeping your mind on other things, I hope?"  
  
"I snapped at Ron yesterday after breakfast," said Harry, ashamed of it. "He hasn't been talking to me since. When I realized what I did, he was gone..." He put his hands out in front of him and twiddled his thumbs nervously. Harry looked down at the table for a second then at Dumbledore. "You said the mark can just disappear on it's own. Is there any way to make it?"  
  
"The only circumstances in which the mark has disappeared from someone is when they no longer need it. I don't think I need to say, but as long as Voldemort lives, you will be needing it." He put his arm on Harry's shoulder. A feeling of warmth rippled from the touch. "It is a protective shield and a valuable tool. Many famous wizards who have had it, including a limited number of ancients themselves, have been manipulated for dark work through their mark.  
  
"They say the ancients would have gone mad if it were not for the mark. You should not worry greatly over it. You have done very well so far in containing Voldemort's control and it is possible you could defeat it entirely." Harry stopped twiddling his thumbs at this word. He gaped open-mouthed as if he just realized something but couldn't pinpoint the thought exactly. "Harry... Harry, what is it?" he said quickly.  
  
"How is it that someone can control someone else's mark?" said Harry, a little louder than he intended.  
  
"I - I don't know?" said Dumbledore, more like a question than an answer.  
  
"You said, during the summer, that Voldemort took my blood so he could get my mark. Then, Hermione realized that I was covered in blood and she reasoned with some reading that I had removed all my blood from Voldemort. What if my spell went horribly wrong?" Dumbledore's face went dead. Harry tried to speak more but his voice escaped him. He began to say "I," keeping his mouth in the position but with no sound and held his breath for a moment. He looked at Dumbledore, closed his mouth and let out a deep breath. Harry sprang off his seat and sprinted out of the Great Hall.  
  
"WHERE ARE YOU GOING!" Dumbledore shouted after him.  
  
"LIBRARY! TO FIND HERMIONE!" Harry shouted back from the hallway. He ran full on around the labyrinth of the castle and did not stop running until he reached the library. Hermione was, as expected, reading, and he nearly knocked her over as he put his hands on her chair to stop himself.  
  
"You know what it is, don't you," he asked her.  
  
"Know what?" she replied in a high pitch voice.  
  
"The mark... I - I just realized something..."  
  
"What are you talking about, it was from the ancients, of course it's protective!"  
  
"What book is that you have?" He grabbed the top of the book and read the title: "Overview of Ages: The Ancients." He then ripped the book out of her hands.  
  
"Hey!-"  
  
"Just wait." Harry frantically flipped through the pages looking for something. He scanned the text as fast as his eyes let him. "Urgh! Where is it!" He continued to flip through pages running his finger down them as he skimmed paragraph after paragraph. Harry didn't exactly know what he was looking for but once he did, it would slap him in the face. His heart beat faster and faster but the answer he was looking for didn't want to be found.  
  
"Harry! What is it?" said Hermione, extremely worried.  
  
"The duel starts in fifteen minutes! Whatever you're looking for, if it's good, keep thinking about it and let's go!"  
  
"Right," he said shortly and stopped flipping through pages. "I'll explain later." Harry and Hermione ran out of the library to the Great Hall as fast as they could. People were already collecting and they had seen a few of them before. Ron was quick to point out the enchanting veela Fleur Delacour. Harry resisted oogling over her but Ron began to drool.  
  
"Ugh! Honestly, it's just a girl!" said Hermione.  
  
"You make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," Harry whispered in Hermione's ear. He turned to both of them and said, "Professor Dumbledore is calling me over. See you after!" There were all kinds of students from different countries and Harry recognized some of them as ones he glanced over at the Quidditch World Cup.  
  
"Hey, Potter," called a familiar, yet unwelcome voice.  
  
"Malfoy, if-" Harry started, but his words were cut short by the daunting figure and seething eyes of Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"So, got yourself to the international finals, eh?" he said through gritted teeth.  
  
"Wouldn't have it any other way, Lucy!" Harry didn't bother to surpress his hatred.  
  
"Watch your back, Potter, -"  
  
Harry spoke innocently. "I better watch my back with you behind it. Never know when you might try to kill me. I seem to be very good at avoiding that, though, so you shouldn't bother." Draco and Lucius looked ready to slip Harry the Killing Curse but thought better of it at the sight of Harry's faint white glow.  
  
"Watch yourself," he said, then whispered to them, "you filthy Death Eater." Harry smirked at both of them and didn't hide his mark, it glowed bright as ever. He walked up to Dumbledore who eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"What?" Harry asked, again sounding innocent. Dumbledore's lips moved as if to say something but then he seemed to change his mind.  
  
"You will be briefed a little on your opponent before each duel. I must warn you that your opponent comes from Durmstrang, where they teach the Dark Arts. As any spell you know is viable, except of course for the Unforgiveables. Clades Ultimus and a few other extraordinarily potent spells, you should be ready for any curses you do not know. Marks are allowed and in fact you will only see students who have them, or very, very skilled students competeing. This is a fierce competition, Harry. Just be careful." To Harry, Dumbledore sounded like he was preaching rather than briefing. "Also, there is no immortality potion. It takes months to prepare enough for just us, it would take far too long to prepare for sixteen people."  
  
"Okay, okay. So I just need to use Inferno."  
  
"Inferno won't be enough alone," said Dumbledore smiling.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Magical resistance is taught as part of the Dark Arts. It is something taught in the seventh year here at Hogwarts."  
  
"Oh, great, just what I needed to know." Dumbledore kept smiling.  
  
"I have no doubt you'll do just fine and I do expect to see more surprises." Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Now go, Fudge is waiting." Harry walked off and felt the hand slide off. He turned around, Dumbledore looked slightly nervous, but why? No real reason, Harry thought to himself, just anxiety. His head was clear, though... nothing bad would happen. He stepped up on the platform and saw Fudge.  
  
Fudge had magnified his voice and began to speak to the crowd. The Great Hall never saw so many people. Harry was glad he was up on a platform and not squished shoulder to shoulder against someone like Ron and Hermione were.  
  
"Welcome! This afternoon is the first match of the International Wizard-School Duels! Your competitors for this evening are..." he turned his attention to the Durmstrang student, "Comainter Caligo from Durmstrang!" Applause filled the hall from a small corner near the back. There didn't seem to be many Durmstrang supporters. "And from Hogwarts, none other than Harry Potter!" The Great Hall exploded in applause and Harry blushed. He forced a smile and waved to a few overexcited people trying to grab his attention. "Now, boys, fight fair, fight clean." He stepped off the platform and into the raging crowd. "Duel!"  
  
Caligo made his mark shine bright and brandished his wand. Harry did the same except he kept his wand inside his robes. Both of them circled giving each other looks of contemptment. Caligo struck first.  
  
"Debilito!" His wand fired a purple light and it streaked passed Harry who miraculously bent backwards ducking the sudden attack. Caligo's mark glittered black for a quick second and resumed glowing white.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" cried Caligo. Harry was thrusted up at the ceiling and slowly floated down. His feet stopped inches above people's heads. He walked on air as if it were solid ground. Oohs and ahhs from the crowd did not distract his attention. Harry stopped just before the platform and three small words tore up and out his mouth.  
  
"Poop so voi." Harry glanced over at Caligo's hourglass. It did not budge, but Caligo had been knocked back several feet. "Guess that's not strong enough," said Harry as he landed on the platform. Harry jerked his hands forward and Caligo found himself forced back. Harry smirked again at the thought. He was quite a powerful wizard, there was no doubt.  
  
"Evasto compostis ipse," Caligo said calmly at Harry. It was nothing he could ever expect. Harry looked down horrified at his legs as they ran circles around the platform, his arms flailing and all of it not under his control.  
  
"Not fair!" said Harry, continuing to run around the platform uncontrollably. He pointed an unsteady finger at Caligo and shouted, "AETHERIUS SCRUTA!" Things started to rain down on Caligo, lots of things. He swayed this way and that under the bangs and cracks and slipped on something producing an effect that only a banana peel could do. Caligo hit the ground hard and Harry's curse was lifted. "Lacarnum inflamare," Harry grunted. Caligo's entire body caught fire but the flames vanished as quickly as they appeared. Harry glanced at Caligo's hourglass. It was empty.  
  
"POTTER WINS!" Fudge screamed over the already very loud crowd. Harry took a look at Caligo, who was holding his head in shame, then jumped a few feet off the ground above the platform... when his scar began to hurt him... a lot. It was like someone forced a red hot poker through his forehead. His legs darted forward but his body stayed behind. He came crashing onto the edge of the platform hitting his upper back on the edge. A cracking sound could only be bones.  
  
The pain from his neck down that followed matched that coming from the scar and his breathing turned into gasps for life. Harry clutched his scar with one hand and his back with the other. The pain came from both sides; neither distracted from the feeling of the other. Harry's eyes were closed and the voices yelling at him were totally indistinguishable. A far more painful feeling, which was definitely something impaling him from the back, wasn't what made him pass out. It was the sight of a something one inch in diameter sticking out his chest that did it.  
  
He woke up later that day in the hospital wing. Harry stared straight up at the ceiling and out of the corner of his eye, saw Hermione. He turned his head right a little to look at her.  
  
"How're you feelin'?" Hermione walked over to Harry, her eyes fixed on his.  
  
"Like I was poked was broiled," he said weakly. He closed his eyes and turned his head all the way to the right so it lay flat.  
  
"You passed out, you know, but you still managed to throw up all over yourself," she said, letting out a short, breathed giggle. "Everyone in the room fled except Ron, Dumbledore, Mr. Fudge and me. Dumbledore cleaned up your lunch with a 'janitor spell'... he called it. Madam Pomfrey came running and nearly gave up her lunch too." She sat down on a bed next to Harry. "We tried to pull the rod out, but it wouldn't budge. Dumbledore was afraid we'd hurt something and all of us thought you were a goner." Hermione tried to hold back tears. Harry opened his eyes and looked at her again.  
  
"You cry too much," he said flatly. She gave him a look of pure detestment and turned away. As with Ron, Harry realized what he said and he sat straight up open-mouthed at the empty door. It was too late, Hermione was gone. He let himself fall heavily onto the bed, slamming his fists against it as hard as he could. Something cracked, snapped and the bed frame gave way letting it all fall down. It was all a nightmare that had to end soon. He had to tell someone about what he thought, but he couldn't move, his legs felt paralyzed. And he couldn't talk loudly, it hurt his back just to breath. Something had to give, or it would be him in his own depression. 


	5. An Ancient Truth

Chapter 5: AN ANCIENT TRUTH  
  
  
Dumbledore walked in momentarily after Hermione left.  
  
"She didn't look very pleased about her visit," he said as he entered the room. He, too, sat down on the bed next to Harry. He waited for a reply but it wasn't coming, Harry was far too uninterested. "Hermione told me that you were flipping through books looking for something. What was it?" This grabbed Harry's attention very quickly.  
  
"The ancients... s-something feels wrong about the mark. I don't know what," said Harry, looking at everything in the room but Dumbledore. Something poked Harry in the back of his brain but the hint wasn't strong enough. Dumbledore looked almost surprised at Harry's guesswork.  
  
"I can assure you the ancients are all they are made out to be. Great wizards on the side of good with an extra touch of happiness," he said with a smile. Harry's eyes finally stopped on Dumbledore, but Dumbledore thought nothing of it. "As usual, we don't know what the scar's pain is all about and most greivously unfortunate, there is no information on the sudden rod that had impaled you..." He patted Harry on the shoulder and headed for the door. "Rest easy with the mark, Harry. You don't have any more duels until Wednesday evening. Get some rest." Harry couldn't rest easy. The mark was what was causing him all this trouble to begin with, but he had no way to prove to anyone what he suspected... which is that the mark is evil.  
  
Living on Privet Drive, Harry took many things for granted. Many things a wizard should know, he turned total ignorance for. It was only last year Harry found out Hagrid was a half-giant. Harry didn't care ("So what?") but Ron looked scared half to death at the news. Are most wizards brainwashed into thinking the mark is a godsend?  
  
The next few days continued without anything noteworthy. Professor Snape had started on Paralysis Potions. Malfoy had found it funny when Snape demonstrated his own brew on Harry. The Slytherin's laughing stopped when Harry's mark glowed blindingly and Malfoy found himself on the receiving end of a Confusion Curse Harry had started just before he freed himself. At this point, the Gryffindor students were laughing. Lastly, Harry suspected Dumbledore spoke to Ron and Hermione because they were acting friendly to him again.  
  
Professor Trelawney decided to get going on speaking to the dead. She reasoned, somehow, that a very accurate way of predicting the future was to talk to dead spirits. No one really payed attention. Whenever she thought she got a spirit, it was usually one of the school ghosts whispering behind a chair or wall. Some people, including Hermione, started to pay slightly more attention after a very tantalizing class. Of course, it was probably attention due to fear.  
  
Trelawney had asked Snape to make a Potency Potion, so her abilities would be heightened, and asked Harry to hold her hand so she could get her share of the mark's power. All desks were pushed aside and everyone sat on the floor, glass orbs out.  
  
"Harry, if you will, hold my hand and keep your mark glowing white." She set herself down in front of her crystal ball and gripped Harry's hand. "Feel your Inner Eye, my students."  
  
"Feel my butt," Ron whispered to Harry.  
  
Professor Trelawney turned the lights off and all that lit the room were four candles, one in each corner of the room.  
  
"Feel the spirits through the plane!" she said, eyes closed, waving her hands over her crystal ball (and moving Harry's hand with it). To everyone's amazement, the usual cloud of junk swirled inside the ball turning a mix between gold and black. "Feel them coming!" She continued to move her hands over the crystal ball and the cloud continued to swirl inside it. For several minutes, she was quiet and everyone stared at the ball.  
  
The candle lights blew out. The cloudy swirl glowed a lazy white. The only lights were the crystal ball and Harry's skin.  
  
"Yes!" cried Professor Trelawney. "Talk to me! Tell me what is to come!"  
  
"An ancient walks among you," a voice said coldly.  
  
And at that, Harry's mark stopped, plunging them into near-total darkness. He looked up at scared eyes through the dim light of the ball - it was clear other students shared his fear. The voice made a shrill cry and faded away.  
  
To their deep astonishment, Trelawney was very happy with herself. It didn't hit her until she said, "Lumos!" at her wand and looked up at everyone's face. Even Parvati looked terribly frightened. They've seen ghosts, but when a voice tells you an ancient, a five thousand year old wizard, is roaming the halls of Hogwarts...  
  
Only one name was crossing Harry's mind that afternoon and by the looks of the other Gryffindor fifth years, their's too -- Voldemort. Hermione, however, was stubborn, and an arguement broke out over dinner.  
  
"You-Know-Who is not an ancient!" she snapped.  
  
"Yes he is!" said Ron. "The ancients are next to impossible to kill. They are determined, they never gave up and they didn't care what the leaders of nearby lands told them to do!"  
  
"I don't believe it," said Hermione in a very it's-finished voice.  
  
"It's exactly all the traits he has!" shrieked Ron through worried breath. "Remember when he got the mark from Harry? He was able to control it instantly with no problems! There were some people saying he already had it but lost it and needed Harry's blood to revive it." Hermione started to look slightly worried too. Seeing this, Ron kept going. "You remember what Professor Binns said in that class you asked about the mark yesterday?"  
  
"Yeah..." Hermione said in anticipation.  
  
"He said that ancients have wicked control over the marks. How do you think he's controlling Harry?" Harry glared at Ron. "What?"  
  
"He's not controlling me."  
  
"You believe it, don't you? That You-Know-Who is an ancient?" Harry didn't reply, he just made his skin glitter faintly, looking worried.  
  
"Oh come off it, Ron," said Hermione.  
  
"If it's not him, then who is it?" That question, Ron noticed, confused Hermione. "There!" he said conclusively. "He is the ancient that walks among us. That's how he's controlling Harry, he's here and that's how Harry got..." - he gulped - "impaled."  
  
Both of them shot a nervous eye at Harry who's skin was now glowing a chaulky gray. "I told Dumbledore something but he doesn't believe me," spoke Harry at last.  
  
"Well come on then, what is it?" said Ron.  
  
"I told him that we have the wrong impression of them," he said with confidence.  
  
"Harry, I thought I would never have to say this, but... you - are - stupid," said Hermione, as if Harry had just done the stupidest thing in his life.  
  
"Fine," said Harry flatly, "don't believe me." He stood up. "I'm going to Hagrid to see if he believes me." Harry started to feel like an outcast -- at Hogwarts. It seemed like everyone was brainwashed to believe the ancients are some great set of wizards that everyone loves...  
  
"We'll go with you," said Hermione, prodding Ron so Harry couldn't see (but he did anyway).  
  
"Yeah... yeah we'll go with you," Ron said smiling behind gritted teeth aimed at Hermione. Harry looked up at Hagrid's usual seat, but he was gone. It was usual for Hagrid to go back to his hut, so after eating, that's where they went.  
  
"Hagrid!" barked Ron, knocking on the door. Fang, Hagrid's dog, barked back, but there was no sign of Hagrid through the windows.  
  
"URGH!" grunted Harry impatiently. "Where is he?"  
  
"Maybe he finally left. I was hoping he would," said Malfoy sneaking up behind them and smirking. "Believe the ancients aren't good, do you? What is that Muggle-raised mind of yours thinking? You know it's probably a good thing your Mudblood mother died."  
  
"Malfoy," started Harry, who's skin glowed so bright he could be used as a torch, "get out of here before I hit you with Clades Ultimus."  
  
This was not a good time for Malfoy to be talking and even if Harry wasn't feeling so much malevolence, this was where he drew the line. Harry lost control of himself. He clapsed his hands and closed his eyes chanting. The wind picked up to storm-like speeds and started to blow very hard, hard enough to push Malfoy away from the castle entrance. He tripped over his cloak scrambling to get away. Finally, the castle door slammed closed and Harry stopped. He looked up at Ron and Hermione who were looking at him as if they had just seen him really use Clades Ultimus.  
  
Harry gave them an innocent look.  
  
"What? It was just a wind charm," he said smiling innocently. They did believe him. Afterall, the wind was too powerful for Clades Ultimus. "Oh don't tut at me, you wanted him gone just as much as I did."  
  
Hermione tutted at him again and his skin returned to normal. The three of them stood there thinking of what to do next. Harry could tell Ron and Hermione were just as worried about Voldemort being the ancient as he was but they didn't share his view of the ancients. The perfect question came to him but his thoughts were interrupted by Hermione.  
  
"Up for a little midnight reading?" she said suggestively.  
  
"No," said Ron and Harry together, knowing what she had in mind. Hermione clutched her hands tightly around the back of their cloaks and dragged them inside the castle.  
  
"She's determined," whispered Ron to Harry.  
  
"Maybe she's the ancient," said Harry, stifling a giggle.  
  
"I heard that," she said, and pulled on both of their cloaks almost making them fall. Harry pulled himself away from Hermione and she almost tripped.  
  
"I can walk by myself, thanks," he said. Ron and Hermione looked at each other. She let go of Ron and they continued walking until they entered the library.  
  
"Hagrid!" said the three of them.  
  
"What're you doin' here?"  
  
"I don't know," said Harry slightly annoyed at Hermione. "Ask her."  
  
"Harry..." said Hagrid sounding more like a mother than his usual self. "You got ter remember what Dumbledore said about yeh. Yer prone ter mood swings. Calm yerself before yeh go an' do summat you'll regret." Ron and Hermione looked at Harry again. Harry moved his head slowly between the two of them, looking at them funny.  
  
"He's right," said Hermione.  
  
"I don't care if he's right, I want someone to believe me when I say there's something we don't know about the ancients." A light went off and he remember his question from earlier. He grinned and said, "If Voldemort is an ancient, what's to say the old ancients weren't evil too?" Ron and Hermione looked a tiny bit shocked.  
  
"No," said Hermione, refusing it.  
  
"I believe yeh!" said Hagrid.  
  
"You what?" said Harry, Ron and Hermione in unison. Hagrid shoved a book in their direction entitled "Ancients: Myth or Misery."  
  
"It don't say much, but what it's got ter say suggests the ancients, well..."  
  
"I don't believe it," squealed Hermione. "Thousands of years of stories and tales about them and you two are coming up with stories saying they're bad? Rubbish, total rubbish."  
  
"Maybe it's a secret someone wanted to cover up?" said Harry suggestively.  
  
"I have another thing that someone wants covered up." Someone spoke from behind them all. "Potter!" said Snape. Harry turned around.  
  
"Not you again, I thought we settled our differences!" said Harry.  
  
"Harry!" gasped Hermione.  
  
"This is because I scared Malfoy, isnt it?"  
  
"Scared? He told me you started casting Clades Ultimus before he ran away. I think this suggests a --"  
  
"IT WAS A --" started Harry --  
  
"Follow - me," threatened Snape in an icy voice.  
  
He grabbed Harry by the arm, who looked back at Hagrid, Ron and Hermione with innocent eyes... because he was... well, innocent! Snape blabbed about Harry being arrogant and showing off and instigating trouble and how he liked to make him angry and...  
  
Harry didn't say a word. Snape could become almost as frightening as Voldemort when he was angry. They walked to Dumbledore's office, who was standing just outside the door tapping his foot.  
  
"What do you have to say in your defense, Harry?" said Dumbledore looking at him disappointed through his half-moon spectacles.  
  
"It wasn't --" started Harry, but he was again interrupted by Snape.  
  
"What should his defense matter, Albus? Clearly the boy is under control and should be dealt with appropriately. We can't have him terrorizing students..." As Snape finished his speech, he looked at Harry and hid a grin from Dumbledore. Harry refused to look back at him, he fixed himself on Dumbledore, becoming quite annoyed at Snape. He was sure Dumbledore would let him speak his mind at some point, though, so he decided it best to wait.  
  
"But --"  
  
"Quiet, Potter. Dumbledore? Suggestions?"  
  
"Give me a minute..." Any time... any time now Dumbledore will ask Harry to say what really happened.  
  
"Draco came running scared right to my office. Said Harry tried to cast a very powerful Clades Ultimus," said Snape.  
  
"Professor --" Harry tried to say, but Snape interrupted,  
  
"Surely this does not require heavy thought?" he said, as if Harry had never spoken his last word.  
  
"Albus =-"  
  
"Potter you are to call him Professor Dumbledore," Snape warned him. Any minute now! Any minute Dumbledore would let Harry talk...  
  
"Harry, if you will, please spend the night in your bedroom. Madam Pomfrey will come up with some Sleeping Potion as soon as I can find her."  
  
"Albus, what --"  
  
"Can --"  
  
"about the --"  
  
"I --"  
  
"rumor of --"  
  
"SAY SOMETHING!" screamed Harry at the top of his lungs.  
  
Snape and Dumbledore stood frozen. It wasn't what Harry said, it was what happened to his skin. It glowed like a pure, black, smoky-quartz rock getting enormous amounts of sunlight from every direction. One could no longer see the color of flesh, it was just pure black, pure, glowing black. He was fuming. Snape had purposely interrupted his every word and Dumbledore had not thought to let him speak. Why?  
  
"FINE!" Harry screamed. "I'M GOING TO MY ROOM AND FEEL FREE TO KNOCK ME OUT!" He sprinted down the hallway, ignored the eyes staring with fright at his back with a heavy weight in his chest after realizing what he did. He exploded in front of Albus Dumbledore, the one person he respected the most among all others.  
  
"Password?" asked the Fat Lady, as he ran up to her.  
  
"Lily and James," said Harry, but too softly for the Fat Lady to hear. It was Malfoy's suggestion to the Fat Lady to change the Gryffindor password to this, the name of Harry's parents. She was groggy one morning and remembered she needed to change it... but unfortunately wasn't thinking.  
  
"Sorry, dear. Didn't hear."  
  
"CAN YOU CHANGE THE DAMN PASSWORD FROM MY DEAD PARENTS' NAMES TO SOMETHING A LITTLE MORE PLEASANT!" he screamed... and she opened.  
  
"Arithmancy," she said softly. "New password," and she dashed out of her portrait and down the hall across the others (presumably to inform Dumbledore of the password change).  
  
Harry walked in and fell heavy upon his bed. It was Tuesday night, he told himself and tomorrow he would be dueling again. The thought just wasn't enough to hide the fact that he screamed in front of Dumbledore and needlessly at the Fat Lady. Madam Pomfrey came a few minutes later with the potion. Harry fell right to sleep. It was good timing, he didn't want to be awake after what he just did.  
  
Harry was awakened by something soft landing on his cheek. He opened his eyes, looked up (he was laying on his side) and...  
  
"Hedwig!" She walked onto his arm and he and turned around to lay on his back. "Hedwig, I'm sorry."  
  
He sat up and raised his arm so she could look at him in the eye. She turned around and stuck her tail feathers up as far as she could, apparently still bitter. Harry hadn't seen her since the day he flung her off his foot. She flew off to land on the windowsill and showed him her tail again. Harry leaned forward and his eyes started to water. Hedwig was his best friend next to Ron and Hermione. Even if she couldn't talk, she understood every word from him. If he couldn't have a moment with anyone else, Hedwig was always there.  
  
He stepped out of bed and propped himself up against the side of it, bending his legs up close to himself. Elbows on his knees, face in his hands, he tried to hold back more tears and sniffed. Something landed on his shoulder. Harry picked his head off his hands and looked to see Hedwig cuddled up against his neck. He stroked her back; she hooted affectionately, nibbling him. By the faded light on the walls, it was still not morning. Harry had fallen fast asleep in this position.  
  
He was awoken again by Ron who had taken to yelling "SNAPE!" in his ear. Harry was sprawled on the floor with Hedwig sitting on his side. He quickly sat up spilling Hedwig who flew to sit on his head.  
  
"Umm?" was all that came from Ron's mouth.  
  
"Hedwig, she came back to me!" said Harry in a dazed and sarcastic voice. Ron rolled his eyes at him. "Okay now Hedwig, off my head. I don't want your poop in my hair." He shook his head and she landed on his shoulder.  
  
"You two are unbelievable."  
  
"She's just an owl." At that, Hedwig turned her tail up at Harry (mind you, she was so close to his face, her tail feather went up his nose). "Sorry, Hedwig. You're my best friend next to Ron, Hermione and Hagrid." She went back to nibbling him. Ron looked at him funny. "Well she is! She woke me last night by sitting on my face. Guess she just wanted me to apologize. Now we're best friends again, right Hedwig?" She stopped nibbling. "Oh come on!" She flew off his shoulder and landed on the windowsill again. Harry took some food he saved last night for Hedwig out of his trunk and gave it to her and she ate it happily. "Don't roll your eyes at me, Ron. I just may go ballistic again." Ron stared at him. "I'm kidding. Can we go have breakfast now?"  
  
"Sure, soon as you get the bird poop off the side of your pajamas." Indeed, Hedwig had forgotten to do her business outside.  
  
"Ugh! Hedwig!"  
  
"That must be her last laugh. Guess that means she's friendly again," said Ron trying hard - and failing - to stifle a laugh. Hedwig hooted in agreement.  
  
"Come on," said Harry, slightly irked, as he changed behind some curtains, "let's get Hermione and then some breakfast." Hermione had been sitting in the commons talking to some first years about what sounded like how to tolerate Snape.  
  
"Coaching first years into thinking Snape is not that bad of a teacher? Oh let's all make Love Potions and share them during class!" growled Ron.  
  
Hermione simply sighed at him -- loudly -- said good luck to the first years and walked off with Harry out through the portrait hole.  
  
Ron looked at the first years and said, "Honestly, with Snape you just need to threaten him a full body bind. But really, he hates it when you're nice to him," he snickered. The first years look horrified as Ron ran out to catch up with Harry and Hermione.  
  
Within seconds, the three of them were in deep conversation.  
  
"So you're really stuck on the idea that the ancients are evil, aren't you, huh?" asked Hermione to Harry, still not giving in to the idea.  
  
"Yes," said Harry confidently. Hermione sighed. "You've been doing lots of sighing at me lately. Anything the matter?"  
  
Ron put a hand over his mouth and said, "Oh, no... Hermione, you're failing Potions, aren't you!" in complete sarcasm.  
  
"No, it-it's not that. It's just that I'm starting to believe you."  
  
"What!?" squealed Ron. "Well, I... umm..." Harry nodded at him, arms folded.  
  
"I really wish You-Know-Who would go after Malfoy and not me," said Harry. "Did Hagrid tell you guys what he found out?"  
  
"Yeah," Hermione and Ron said in unison. "He said that, er..."  
  
"He read a book about them and it suggested that they were good wizards to start with," said Hermione. "The mark was a trait they had no one could explain. It would glitter gold when they were using it and would make their skin glow white when it was in full effect, meaning you could do spells you didn't even know, they would just come to you when you wanted to do something." Hermione took a bite of her eggs.  
  
"Yeah," said Ron trying to sound important and seizing Hermione's silence. "They-"  
  
"Something happened, the book said," said Hermione, ignoring Ron's frown. "But it just ends before saying what happened. Looks like the writer died or something because there isn't even a period at the end of that sentence."  
  
"That's right," said Hagrid as he came up to them. "And there's plenty more about them ancients we don't know!"  
  
"I can't believe this," said Hermione, "thousands of years of stories about good things the ancients have done and it turns out they hid more secrets than that stupid Chamber of Secrets? The ancients must be over five thousand years old! This... is ridiculous!"  
  
"This is true, Hermione," said Harry with even more confidence now, sounding to put it to conclusion. Hagrid sat down. They looked around at one another with grave looks on their faces. "So the question is... now what?" Harry clearly had more to worry about than the other three.  
  
"I don't know," said Hermione, followed by a slow, deep breath of concern, being a little louder on the outtake than she intended. They all looked at each other again through pained eyes. 


	6. Now What

Chapter 6: NOW WHAT  
  
  
"One thing's certain," said Ron, trying to sound cheerful. "Harry has to go and win Hogwarts the International Wizard-School Duels! Eh!? Eh... bah." Ron went back to grudgingly eating his pancakes.  
  
"Yeah, Ron's right," said Harry, trying to sound cheerful as well. I have another duel this afternoon."  
  
"Do you know who it is yet?" asked Ron.  
  
"Nope, but I just thought of something more important," said Harry, as if it wasn't important... it's about Sirius. "I wonder how the... other... You-Know-Who is doing?"  
  
"The other You-Know-Who?" said Hermione, looking at Ron's blank face.  
  
"Yeah, his name... you know... starts and ends with an 'S'?" said Harry trying to clue them in. A light went on over Ron and Hermione's head.  
  
"Oh!" they said in unison.  
  
"Oh..." said Hermione grimly.  
  
"Yeah," said Harry. "Haven't heard or spoken to him since..." He poked some of his pancakes with a fork and put it up to his mouth.  
  
"You... don't think..." started Hermione, as Harry stopped chewing, "that... you know..." Harry dropped his fork.  
  
"I'm not hungry anymore," he said. "Why can't classes start earlier."  
  
"Harry, we have a half hour."  
  
"I'm going to bring the rest of this to Hedwig and see if she'll deliver a letter to him for me." Hermione opened her mouth but Harry had already stuffed the pancakes in a plastic bag and walked out.  
  
Hedwig ate a small portion gratefully on his shoulder.  
  
"Hedwig?" he said, waiting for her to respond. She gave a "go on..." hoot. "Will you deliver a letter to Sirius for me?" She fluttered onto the window and stuck her leg out for Harry to tie a letter to -- and she looked very eager. "Oh, I don't have one yet, but thank you!"  
  
She pulled her foot back, flew into her cage and took a few sips of water. She then proceeded to pace back and forth waiting impatiently. Harry laughed airily, glad to see she wasn't bitter anymore. He took out a piece of parchment and a quill and his hand just wrote without him thinking.  
  
"Lots to tell you," he started writing, "Guess I'll start with Voldemort. He's still trying to get control of me but it's not working. I have been doing a lot of blowing up on people lately. One of my episodes was in front of Dumbledore and after that I realize I need to control it or I'm going to get in big trouble. I've been using spells I never knew. It's hard to explain, I just say stuff without knowing what it is. One of them Professor Dumbledore called Clades Ultimus and it made him very upset when I used it." And that was one paragraph.  
  
He continued to write, jotting down everything inside him out and onto parchment that has happened since the last time Sirius and him spoke. He wrote about the voice in Divination saying an ancient is among them (and how they know the ancient is Voldemort), how they think the ancients themselves turned to the Dark side... all in all, Harry filled up three pieces, front and back. He stuffed it in a small envelope, barely able to contain it all. He tied the envelope to Hedwig's leg and she flew off. He felt like the great weight that was attached to him since the first day of school was finally letting go. It's a great feeling, spilling out all of your worries to someone you can trust... Sirius' reply would never come soon enough for him, though.  
  
"Harry! We're late!" Hermione came in screaming at Harry with Ron at her side.  
  
"Potions, ugh." Harry's skin glittered, then glowed and they were in their seats.  
  
"Potter!" said Snape threateningly.  
  
"Don't start, Snapey. I had a good morning, best in weeks, and I don't want your sourness to ruin it." He glared at all the Slytherins. "You too," he threatened, making sure to stare at Malfoy.  
  
"Very well," said Snape, heeding Harry's warning. Harry looked in Ron and Hermione's direction, who were trying their very best to keep from bursting out in laughter. "We will be making Spirit Potions today, which aids in calling random spirits to talk to. I, personally, believe spirit-talking is rubbish but she insisted... citing the class I'm sure you all still remember very well. Now. You will take juice of eye of dragon, do not drop it in yet, five three inch strips of flesh from a Blast-Ended Skrewt and stir in a base of dragon pus. You will then pour in a pint of your own blood. After that you will drop the eye in the cauldron." Everyone squirmed at the second to last ingredient. "You will probably feel light-headed after extracting your blood and so remember that I will not care if you faint. Use the needles provided to extract it and pour it into the measuring cups also provided."  
  
Snape brought out the dragon eyes, thin, gross sheets of Skrewt skin and dragon pus from his office. Everyone grabbed as much as they needed... or in the case of the Skrewt skin, as much as their stomach's could take. Small cutting knives and surgical needles were left out on his desk as well as measuring jars.  
  
"I think I'm gonna be sick," said Hermione. "I had enough blood this summer to last me a life time."  
  
"Hey look, Neville threw up!" screached Ron.  
  
"And would you like to clean it up, Mr. Weasley?" barked Snape. Ron swallowed down the rising food.  
  
"Get off it, it's not that bad," said Harry. Hermione picked up a one foot sheet of Skrew skin.  
  
"Yes it is, do you want to cut this?" Harry tore the skin out of Hermione's hand, literally. It made a disgusting sound the entire class winced at. "HARRY DID YOU HAVE TO DO THAT? Ugh! And to think we spent an entire year with them with Hagrid last year."  
  
Harry took a knife from Snape's desk and cut it, casually and calmly, into neat strips three inches long and gave them to Hermione.  
  
"There you go, all your strips," he said smiling.  
  
"I wouldn't touch that if you paid me," Ron said to Harry. "It doesn't look like anyone else would either."  
  
The three of them looked around. Indeed, no one had touched a single sheet of Skrewt skin. Neville was poking it with a needle and Malfoy had taken to rubbing it on peoples faces.  
  
"No one is going to make their potion? Maybe no one would like to pass!" said Snape rather loudly. He walked over to Neville. "Neville, grab your scissors and START CUTTING!" Neville did nothing more than cower away.  
  
"Oh gimme a break," said Harry in frustration. He snatched a surgical needle and a knife from Snape's desk. Snape turned to Harry, who cleanly sliced five, three inch strips of Skrewt skin. "Hermione, hand me that dragon pus ball." He grabbed it from her forcefully, cut it open and squeezed all the gross pus out into his cauldron. Harry then dropped in one sheet of skin which caused the cauldron to bubble slightly. He put in the second, third, fourth and fifth and it let off a steamy mist. "Accio!" he barked at a dragon eye. He poked a hole in the iris and a white, thick liquid poured out of it. He squeezed the small ball with his fingers, squirting himself accidently, to get all of it out.  
  
"Now for the fun part," he said. Harry took the surgical needle, cut the end off and poked a hole with in under his forearm. Nothing came out of it the first try... or the second try... or the third try. He accidently jammed it through his arm on the fourth (the sight at which made a Slytherin girl faint). He nearly fainted at the sight (and pain) himself, but his skin glowed white and the wound vanished instantly. After painfully pulling it out, the fifth try was successful. Harry sucked out a little bit, spit onto the floor and let a full pint of his own blood pour inside his cup. It took about several gross seconds and the entire time Hermione and Ron looked away. The rest of the class stared awestruck. When the cup read one ounce, he pulled the needle from his arm, glittered his skin so the cut healed instantly and said quietly at the needle "Reparo," making it repair itself instantly. He dropped the eyeball inside the cauldron to finish the potion.  
  
"Very well..." grumbled Snape. Harry beamed up at Ron and Hermione, still sick at the thought of him putting a needle through his arm.  
  
"That was really gross," said Hermione quite grossed out.  
  
"Let's see you do it then, go on." Most of the class started to cut their Skrewt skin, pour out puss and squirt juice from dragon eyes.  
  
"You do not need to stick your needles through your arms to get blood out --"  
  
"That takes too long," interrupted Harry.  
  
"I'd rather do that than suck my own blood out," Hermione whispered to Harry.  
  
"Trust me, you don't want to do it Snape's way. Here, I'll do it for you." Harry cut the end off the needle again and looked up to see everyone else trying to do it Snape's way. Neville and Malfoy were having the same problem: they both looked white in the face.  
  
In fact, most everyone was looking very pale. Harry shook his head. "It's going to take a half hour that way, do you really want to sit here for a half hour with a needle in your arm?" Hermione shook her head. "Then let me do it this way." He looked carefully for an artery in her forearm and poked the needle in her arm causing her to jump. "Don't look." He looked over at Ron who had just made a strange noise. "You too." Harry sucked out a little bit of blood and then put the needle into the cup. Slowly but surely, it filled up and Hermione made a point not to look at it.  
  
"C-can you do me, too?" said Ron quivering.  
  
"Sure," Harry said brightly. He repeated the same process only Ron took two tries to find an artery.  
  
"Me too?" asked Neville.  
  
"And me?" asked Lee.  
  
"Come here and help me too, Potter," snarled Malfoy. Harry walked over to Malfoy first. His skin glowed white and he looked for an artery, as usual, in Malfoy's forearm.  
  
"Oh look, here's one," he squealed with delight and jammed the needle right through Malfoy's arm, pulling it out violently from the other end.  
  
Malfoy pulled his arm from Harry's grip, covered both holes with his free hand, staggered, then fainted. Harry left him there but not before closing the wound. It was, afterall, either that or getting put to sleep again by more Sleeping Potion. Snape actually laughed at this. Within a half hour, everyone at least had their blood poured into cups (the stench would remain for days). Some still refused to touch their Skrewt skin but Snape warned that they would fail (Hermione, unfortunately, was one of them). This convinced them all, but a few still passed out.  
  
The bell didn't ring soon enough.  
  
"Pour your cauldron's contents into your jar, label it, and put it in a safe place. We will be working on them tomorrow and you will be using them later that day," said Snape.  
  
"Ugh, do you believe that?" said Hermione disgusted. "That is the single worst potion we've had to make yet."  
  
"I found it rather enjoyable," said Harry innocently.  
  
"Only because you got to hurt Malfoy." Harry giggled to himself.  
  
"Well anyway, Transfigurations next. McGonagall said we would be learning how to transform ourselves into animals! Remember?" he said excitedly. Hermione groaned.  
  
"Does it hurt?"  
  
"You know the answer to that, remember when we used the Polyjuice Potion three years ago?"  
  
"That just felt funny."  
  
"My side was killing me," said Ron. Harry and Hermione glared at him. "What?" Hermione sighed. Ron and Harry went through the potion perfectly. Hermione's final ingredient, which should have been a piece from the person to transform into, turned out to be cat hair. The potion was not meant to do animal transformations...  
  
They walked silently to Transfiguration. McGonagall sat and purred on her desk (she can transform into a cat).  
  
"Is she a registered Animagi?" asked Ron.  
  
"Has to be. All Animagi have to register with the Ministry of Magic, you know that," said Hermione. "Hey wait-"  
  
"Relax," said Harry interrupting her. He knew exactly what she was thinking. "She said she's be glad to see if one of us sprouted whiskers. I asked her about me and she said the mark wouldn't do me any good. Something about the ancients and Animagi. Didn't say exactly why though." Ron shrugged. It didn't matter much to Harry, a class he didn't have all attention centered on himself was a good class.  
  
They went in, sat down and listened. And listened... and listened... and listened. Professor McGonagall went over all the fine and unfine points of Animagi transformations. When she said it might hurt, Hermione nearly had a heart attack ("Oh, no!"). She did say that someone would be lucky if just a small part of their body began to transform. The reason she gave Harry that his mark would not help was because, quite simply, the ancients had no experience with transformations. All of the magic he found himelf doing, the ancients were capable of. No experience from ancients, no help from the mark. Animagi did not exist five thousand years ago.  
  
The speech took up quite a bit of the class time, almost the full hour.  
  
"I will call your names and assist you one by one. We will only get to a few of you today, the rest, you can just watch. First up, Lee." Lee Jordan stepped up to the front. McGonagall spoke as if she was going to repeat this many times.  
  
"First, pull out your wand, grab it tightly in one hand and rest your arms at your sides. Think of an animal you want to transform yourself into." Lee pulled his wand out, grabbed it and rested his arms at his sides. "Close your eyes and picture the animal." He did so. "Look straight upwards and relax yourself." He did so. "No, I said relax yourself." She pushed on his shoulders and after a few seconds, his arms hang limp. "Say, to yourself, as if casting a spell 'Transformis Agito'."  
  
Lee obviously did that as well, because his head began to let off a gray smoke and he sprouted one horn, a small horn, not bigger than a one inch bump on his head, but a horn nonetheless on the left side of his head.  
  
"Oh!" said McGonagall jumping up and down totally ecstatic. "Excellent!" Lee looked up at his forehead where the horn stuck out. It was, clearly enough, a dragon horn. It was sharp, too... Lee pricked his finger with it. "Try again, this time picturing yourself instead of an animal and you will remove the horn."  
  
Within seconds, the horn vanished and Lee took his seat. "Neville, come." Neville got up from his seat, shaking from head to toe. McGonagall repeated the speech in full. Neville, however, only had smoke come from his rear and nothing else.  
  
"Something! It is something! Last year, many students barely got a mist or smoke. Hermione, you're next." McGonagall repeated her words yet again. Hermione sprouted a three inch tail resembling that of a cat. She had complete control of it, too, able to bend it in almost any direction. After five minutes of McGonagall trying to catch Hermione's attention, she finally removed her tail.  
  
"Ron, up front, please?" Ron walked up all hearty and confident, confident he was going to grow whiskers, he said. He barely got more than Neville -- all he got was smoke from his nose and rear. Upset and belittled, Ron sat folding his arms.  
  
"Harry? Last one for today."  
  
"I'm going to send smoke out my rear and my nose, just for you, Ron," said Harry as he got up. A few girls giggled. Harry stood up and McGonagall started to repeat her speech yet again, but,  
  
"No need to, Professor. I think I know what I have to do." What animal would he use? There was, of course, the Horntail he flew past last year. There was a small model of it somewhere in his trunk. He would, however, like more to be able to transform into the stag his father transformed into. Keep the memory of his dad alive, he told himself. It was a reminder, a sad reminder, but a reminder. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, clasped his hands ("Potter!")... okay, he put his hands by his sides and clutched his wand tight. He mutter "Transformis Agito" to himself.  
  
Harry's neck extended outward and slightly up. Thick smoke surrounded him and a light but pleasant pain entered his forehead -- horns were starting to protrude just below his hairline. Hooves appeared where there were once toes and feet. Harry's back arched and grew and he fell forward on two more feet that used to be hands. A bone behind him extended and he sprouted a short tail. Skin continued to darken, the horns grew to their full length and body hair thickened to a full coat of fur. The lightning-shaped scar was clear as day under one horn and where there were glasses, there were now light rings around the eyes.  
  
He transformed into his father, or at least a form of, and his skin neither glittered nor glowed. Harry looked up at the class to see that Neville and Hermione had fainted, the other students were either gaping or cheering and Professor McGonagall sat in a chair with a hand over her mouth.  
  
"Oh, m-my goodness," she said. A great deal of shakiness was apparent in her voice. She stood up and examined Harry, horn to foot. She walked a full circle around him, touching the horns, feeling the fur... "A perfect transformation," she said, looking for any human-like qualities that, if any, remained. "S-stay here, all of you. I'll be back in a moment." She ran out the door in a hurry.  
  
"Who do you think she's getting?" asked Ron as he revived Hermione.  
  
"I'll give you one guess and his name ends with Dumbledore," she said flatly.  
  
"Wow," said Lee, examining Harry as well. "The mark didn't do anything!" Harry pulled his hind legs, crossed his front legs and sat down. Neville tried to pet him but Harry hit his hand with his horns. McGonagall had, indeed, come back with Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"And the mark did nothing?" he asked. Harry looked up and gave a small nod. "On the first try, you say? I'm seeing it, and I still don't believe it." He examined Harry as well. "This takes years of practice," he said aloud. He then whispered to Harry and McGonagall, "James did learn how to transform rather quickly but it took a good three months before he could get further than horns and some smoke." He took a few steps back. "Well..." he said aloud, rubbing his chin, "let's see him change back, then."  
  
Harry stood tall on all fours, closed his eyes and looked up. His skin glittered but stopped so fast all he could make out was one small spark of gold. It was so fast, in fact, he was sure no one else saw it. There was a puff of gray smoke surrounding him and some mist filled the air but it all abruptly stopped. He tried again without hesitation. The smoke, the mist, the extremely fast glitter... but his form did not change. Harry looked up at Dumbledore, his fur all awry in confusion.  
  
"Keep trying!" said McGonagall. "If you can get there, you can certainly get back." She sounded very confident.  
  
Harry tried a third time. The glitter was faster than ever. Mist and smoke became thick... turning dark and clouding his vision. Harry felt weak like the strength of the stag was leaving him. His head dropped like the neck was disappearing and his hind legs started to quiver. The mist fouled up his consciousness and the smoke overtook his senses... he wasn't transforming into a human, he was fainting.  
  
Madam Pomfrey was standing over him in the hospital wing.  
  
"Quite a feat you did, there. Too bad you couldn't change back. Took Dumbledore several tries to remove all the fur," she said. "You should feel perfectly fine. You merely fainted from exhaustion. Been out almost two hours." Harry's eyes slowly focused on her frame. "You better get running along, you have a duel in five minutes!" Harry's eyes widened having forgotten all about it. He jumped out and ran out of bed and into the Great Hall. Hermione met him at the front door.  
  
"Hurry up and get over to Dumbledore!" Harry walked calmly, or at least tried to, up to Dumbledore followed closely by her and Ron.  
  
"Today you face Viktor Krum." Ron's eyes lit up with excitement.  
  
"Krum! Oh, no! Poor Krum!"  
  
"Poor Harry if Krum is any good," said Hermione sighing heavily at Ron.  
  
"Krum has no mark, therefore it is asked that you do not use yours. Now, go win us another!" It wasn't Dumbledore's place to promote competition, but Harry appreciated the enthusiasm all the same. He stepped onto the platform after seeing Krum step up.  
  
"Tonight's duelers..." said a magnified voice coming from Dumbledore's direction, "Viktor Krum and Harry Potter! Fight fair... fight clean... and... duel!"  
  
Krum was exactly like Harry had seen him last, of course it was only a year ago. Krum played for the Bulgarian international Quidditch team. He was a well known Seeker who Ron, as well as millions of other, fancied.  
  
Harry brandished his wand like a deadly sword in front of him. Krum did just the same. The ritualistic circling of each other followed. Both of them muttered words for a body bind charm but it was only Harry who stopped just before saying the last syllable. Krum's just missed. They eyed each other like hawks and it looked as if they thoroughly despised each other. Krum had just finished casting a spell. Harry lept sideways and rolled perfectly, stopping and getting to his feet on the very edge ignoring the gasps from the crowd around him.  
  
"EXPELLIARMUS!" shouted Krum at the top of his lungs. It was a strong disarm charm but Harry had gotten himself ready. He jumped and pushed his weight backwards throwing his hands out over, or at this point, under, his head. He landed on a cleared space off the platform and did a handspring back onto his feet then ran back and jumped onto the platform once again.  
  
"This is how you disarm someone," said Harry smirking at Krum. "EXPELLIARMUS!" Krum had expected it and did just the same except Harry's charm sent him back against the wall. Krum hit flat against the far wall and fell down a few feet. Harry walked broodingly over to him.  
  
Krum, still crouched on the floor, pointed his wand at Harry and muttered something only he could hear. Harry was instantly getting pelleted by invisible heavy objects. One hit him smack on the head nearly knocking him out. Krum advanced and Harry had to struggle to stay conscious. The outcome was grim. Harry tried to stand up but another object hit him on the head. He fell down on his back and another one hit him square between the legs. "Serpensortia," said Krum aloud. Krum, however, had no idea Harry could speak Parseltongue, the snake language. One quick look at his own hourglass assured Harry Krum had only taken one quarter of sand.  
  
A five foot long black snake snake fell out of the tip of Krum's wand followed by black smoke. It slithered up to Harry who just grinned with excitement, still hurt, however by the misguided object. "Tie up his feet, you slime." The snake obeyed, gripping Krum's feet tight with it's tail. Krum stood, agasp. He staggered as the snake tightened it's grip and rode up his cloak. Harry stood up, still pained and dispelled it. One more shout of "Expelliarmus!" and Harry had removed the remaining dribble of sand from Krum's hourglass.  
  
"Potter wins!" said Dumbledore proudly. Krum walked up to Harry but Harry's attention was focused on a Ravenclaw girl he liked that was a year above him: Cho Chang. She had been waving at him whenever he could see her. Cho Chang played Seeker for Ravenclaw's Quidditch team. She almost costed Harry a game, but he decided it best to put aside strange feelings erupting from his stomach and focus his attention on the Snitch. He tried to ask to her ro a dance in his fourth year, but Cho already had a partner. Harry was thoroughly embarassed, yet happy that she didn't laugh.  
  
His attention was quickly, and annoyingly, diverted by Krum. "'Arry! I did not know you vere a Parselmouth," said Krum. He almost look scared. Harry lifted his bangs so Krum could get another close look at the scar. Krum couldn't help but stare. Harry didn't mind, this was the usual reaction, but not only did Krum stare, some people Harry didn't recognize did as well.  
  
"I got this from You-Know-Who and a few other surprises as well," said Harry, smiling. Harry put his hand down and shook Krum's. "Good match."  
  
"You missed lunch, Harry," said Ron behind him. Harry turned around. Ron had a strange look on his face. He wasn't exactly focused on Harry.  
  
"I'm not really hungry." Harry recognized the look and nodded to himself. "You going to ask Krum for an autograph?"  
  
"All you 'af to do is ask!" said Krum. He took out some parchment and a quill, apparently ready for autographs. Harry moaned and walked over to Hermione who was waving him over.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Harry, you noticed that Hedwig hasn't come back yet?" Indeed Harry did.  
  
"She's been gone longer than a few days before. She might still be trying to find Sirius. Hedwig doesn't have foresight, you know," he said grinning.  
  
"I'm just nervous, because Sirius was accidently seen and all. I still think he's fine but I'm waiting for a reply more impatiently than you are." Her worry was obvious, but there just wasn't much to side with. Hedwig had only been out a few days. The last time she went searching for Sirius, she was missing for over a week.  
  
The next few days passed with only minor incidents. McGonagall had asked Harry to transform into a stag again on Thursday, which he did succesfully, but it was quite the same situation when he tried to transform back. McGonagall and Dumbledore didn't look like they were going to have answers any time soon. It was no worry for anyone, though. It stood quite a miracle he could transform in the first place.  
  
Professor Trelawney had postponed the use of the Spirit Potions because Snape had forgotten to buy ingredients from Hogsmeade for the next step of the potion. Trelawney said she would go out Friday evening after dinner to buy them herself. She seemed very upset with Snape and most likely would be for the next several weeks. Rumors were spreading saying she would start predicting his death instead of Harry's for a change. Afterall, ever since Harry attended Divination, in some form or another, every week Trelawney would tell Harry he would be dieing.  
  
"Would someone tell that woman I'm not going to die?" whispered Harry to Ron that Friday.  
  
"She was so happy with herself when you did," said Ron truthfully, "but so very upset when you came back to life." The two of them laughed during the middle of a speech Professor Trelawney was giving on spirit-talking.  
  
"Mr. Potter, if you must know, next week your death will be from sadness," she snarled. Harry guessed she heard their conversation.  
  
"Oh, good," he said sarcastically, "now can you tell us what the potions we made in Snape's class will be used for? I want to know if stabbing Malfoy with a needle was worth it." All the students laughed because none of them really liked Malfoy... at all.  
  
"They will be used in aid of conjuring random spirits to speak and learn the future from. Spirits of the dead are the best tellers of fortune and misfortune. Even the Inner Eye cannot compare." Harry shook his head and sighed as soon as Trelawney turned her attention back to her crystal ball.  
  
"This class is such a waste of time," Harry whispered extra quietly to Ron.  
  
"If this class is such a waste of time, Mr. Potter, then I suggest you change subjects." The bell rang and Harry packed his bags never faster. Hermione was coming down the hall.  
  
"Get out early?" asked Ron.  
  
"Yes, in fact. We finished our runes today and we were let out fifteen minutes early."  
  
"Honestly, I don't know what's so fascinating about staring at rocks with words on them," said Ron.  
  
"What's so fascinating about hearing how Harry is going to die next? She hasn't been right about the method yet!" squealed Hermione. Harry glared at her. "Sorry," she said shortly.  
  
They spent the afternoon arguing about how boring Hermione's classes were and Hermione was sure to put in her two pence about Divination. She was, however, at least halfway interested in spirit-talking. Word had got around fast about the voice in class that day and some more people were considering it. Rumors were passing around Trelawney was trying to get the spirit of an ancient. That was shot down when Trelawney barked during dinner Saturday night that you can absolutely not call upon specific spirits. She made it a point to mention it has not been done in the ten thousand plus years spirit-talking has existed.  
  
Harry had a duel Friday evening, Friday night and Saturday morning. All three of which were about an hour long and consisted of many oohs and aahs from around the room. Fleur Delacour of Beauxbaton's school of wizardy had the displeasure of losing to Harry in a mere ten seconds Friday evening. She conjured two snakes which Harry used to tie up her legs and hands. Her hourglass emptied itself, presumably because of fear. Harry's victim that night had the mark. One successful Disarming charm in the beginning and two quick infernos did the poor girl in.  
  
The opponent Saturday morning was rather rough. After an hour of exchanging unsuccessful, yet flashy (powered by their marks), Disarming charms they resorted to Stupefy charms and a string of shouting "Lacarnum Inflamoree." A half hour of that with half the crowd sleeping, Harry livened things up by finally revealing the nature of the objects in a spell that rains invisible heavy objects on a target. It was, quite simply, garbage from a nearby garbage can. The random litter, boxes, bits of food, et cetera, would disappear upon contact with the ground and reappear back inside the can.  
  
Everything went smoothly Saturday. Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the day talking Thantanos Brev. They seemed to agree he was a better wizard than everyone except Harry. Harry, however, felt Brev would be better than him. He didn't let on about it and kept the opinion to himself.  
  
Sunday night, half past midnight, Hermione snuck into the boy's dormitory and had been in deep conversation yet again with Ron and Harry. They were sitting Indian style on the floor in a circle between Harry's and Ron's bed.  
  
"What d'you reckon that hag is gonna make us do?" asked Ron.  
  
"We'll probably bring up dead people we never knew-" started Hermione.  
  
"And Professor Trelawney will make us talk to them and they'll scare us half to death," interrupted Ron. "Who knows, one of them might join in her fun and say how Harry might die this week."  
  
"I really wish she would stop," said Harry nervously. "Makes me quiver whenever I have a brush." He put his arms behind his head and laid back onto the floor, stared dreamily up at the ceiling and pulled up his legs in, bending his knees. He was entirely truthful. Nothing was more nerve-wracking than having someone continually tell you you're going to die and then give a method at least once a week, except perhaps Voldemort. Harry's eyes began to wander.  
  
"Do you think we'll get someone scary?" said Ron.  
  
"I sure hope not. I heard enough about that horrible class this week," said Hermione quite obviously annoyed.  
  
"She said all of us are going to get to try and call a spirit. Said we can ask it questions and supposedly it's going to tell us something. I'll be happy if it just tells me I'm not going to fail Divination."  
  
Hermione giggled. Ron wasn't doing very well in Divination and Harry was very close to failing. Professor Trelawney had cornered him during their last class and said he would pass, however, and with flying colors. Harry had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.  
  
"You two have any idea how I'm going to pass Divination?" asked Harry.  
  
"No clue," said Ron. "You're doing just as bad as me and she said you're going to pass with flying colors? Ugh, someone slap her."  
  
"I wish there was some way we could call people we wanted to," said Ron dreamily.  
  
"Why? Who would you want to talk to?" asked Hermione. Harry started to think of who he would want to call.  
  
"Oh, I don't know. My mum and dad sometimes talk about my great grandparents." Ron looked at the floor in front of him and picked at the carpet.  
  
"I'd like to bring up my grandmother's spirit," said Hermione thinking wishfully. "Never knew her very well. Died a few months before I was born."  
  
"Yeah but we can't," said Ron gloomily. "Not in " - and he copied Professor Trelawney's voice - "ten thousand years has someone brought up a spirit of their own choice. Honestly, that woman makes me want to barf." Harry's eyes stopped wandering and he sat up. He stared directly between Ron and Hermione. A thought he couldn't pinpoint sat lodged in his mind.  
  
"Harry?" said Hermione, looking at him, turning her head as if there was something on his face. Ron did, too. Harry continued to stare straight between Ron and Hermione, expressionless except for the slight quiver apparent at the corners of his mouth. "Oh... Harry..." she said trying to sound consoling.  
  
Harry didn't need to say anything. Ron and Hermione knew instantly what the face Harry was making was all about. A single tear dripped from Harry's left eye and glided slowly. A solitary tear... mimicking the loneliness he felt since the day he discovered their real cause of death. He went into a daze, the vision of Ron and Hermione disappearing behind a waterfall.  
  
"Of course we knew! How could you not be?" rang Aunt Petunia's voice in his head. "...and we got landed with you..." Her voice was cold as ice like it always had been. How could she make it sound like he was an unwanted parcel dropped on their doorstep? "...just as strange, just as -- as -- abnormal -- and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up..." Aunt Petunia's voice was never forgiving around him.  
  
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Lily Potter's voice tore through the evil sound of Aunt Petunia like a ray of heavenly light among a swarm of dementors. If he could only talk to them, his worries would be whisked away.  
  
Harry hadn't noticed the waterworks erupting from his eyes. He stopped day dreaming when Hermione had slapped him.  
  
"Snap out of it," she said. "Harry, are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah," he lied. "Just fine." The familiar weight attached itself to his stomach and it's grip was tight as ever. "Wonder how Sirius is doing?" Whatever good sending Sirius a letter did abruptly left. There was no substitute for standing in front of the Mirror of Erised and seeing Lily and James for the first time... the first time he would ever truly remember them, at least.  
  
"You," said Dumbledore's voice in his head, "who have never known your family, see them standing around you."  
  
"Harry," said Ron with a sense of understanding, "you need to keep your mind off it. No one's going to say it flat out, so I won't either. You know what Professor Dumbledore said." He sighed... and he was right. Dumbledore's voice became clear as day again. "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." Quidditch practice took a great deal of worries off Harry's mind. A good two or three hour practice, covered in mud or drenched in rain -- or both -- and he was ready to look death straight in the eye and laugh... hard. Hermione and Ron both looked down and Harry continued his stare between them.  
  
"Then there's Cho..." Harry said quietly. He just needed something to remove the memories.  
  
"What?" said Hermione. She looked up. "Can you stop staring like that, Harry? It's scaring me." He closed eyes and shook his head then looked down at the floor directly in front of him.  
  
"She was smiling at me whenever I looked at her during the duel Wednesday afternoon," he said gloomily and with a new sense of hopelessness, still in the dazed state. This was not a good direction for the conversation. He didn't know much about Cho except that he thought her very pretty. Was she starting to notice him? Or was it just because of his... ability. Harry would rather have no friends than have made friends out of popularity. Despite popular belief, attention never mixed well with him.  
  
"Maybe she's got a thing for you!" said Ron, trying to inject some happiness. Harry turned his head quickly to Ron and stared coldly at him, which made Ron jump.  
  
"No. I hate her. I'm going to bed. Good night." He bolted upright and crawled into bed, not bothering to change into pajamas. Hermione's footsteps faded away. Ron didn't speak and Harry would have it no other way. He ignored the further quivering of his lips and the slow but steady stream of tears pouring from each eye. The Mirror of Erised, a mirror he had come across in his first year, provided his first glimpse of his parents in ten years. It showed the on-looker centered in it's view what their hearts clamored for most... but it was only a picture. Anyone else that looked at the mirror while one person was looking into it would be able to use it as if it were a normal mirror. Dumbledore properly told him people have gone mad staring into it. But now, Harry had a thought. Could he call the spirits of his parents? No, it was wishful thinking. It hadn't happened in ten thousand years... but then again, he has been doing some pretty amazing stuff lately.  
  
He forced his eyes closed and commanded his mind to stop wandering. Harry would go insane over old memories being there was nothing to properly take his mind off them. Thoughts stopped badgering him when he finally fell into the welcome state of sleep. 


	7. Losing Friends

Chapter 7: LOSING FRIENDS  
  
  
Harry woke up Monday morning to find his eyes sticky with salt. His bed sheets had fallen off and his arms and legs were sprawled all over. Ron and Neville were still asleep -- and great luck because it was all rather embarassing. Harry wiped the remaining tear off his face with his sleeve, making it quite wet, grabbed his bed sheets and quilt and arranged them neatly on top. He looked at a clock: seven twenty-three.  
  
Thirty-seven minutes later, they were all in the Great Hall eating breakfast.  
  
"What is this music they're playing?" asked Ron, very confused. "And better yet, if it's Muggle music, how are they playing it?"  
  
"Yeah, electricity doesn't work here. It's supposed to go haywire," said Hermione.  
  
"Electricity?"  
  
"Yeah, you know... well... I think it's like small things that run around inside wires and power stuff."  
  
"Something like that," said Harry.  
  
"Do you know who this is, Harry?" asked Hermione. "I've only heard a few Muggle songs. We mostly don't listen to music at my house." Harry pinched an ear to hear the words.  
  
Two voices sang in harmony. "And they say that a hero could save us. I'm not gonna stand here and wait..."  
  
"Sounds like a band called Nickelback," said Harry, recognizing the song.  
  
"I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles. Watch as we all fly away..."  
  
"I kinda like it!" said Ron.  
  
A voice was singing alone now. "Someone told me love would all save us. But, how can that be. Look what love gave us."  
  
"What is it playing on? They can't use electricity!" said Hermione.  
  
"A world full of killing... and blood spilling, that world never came..."  
  
"Look," said Harry pointing at Dumbledore. "He's got a record player bewitched," said Harry, giggling. "You can spin a record, fold some paper into a cone and put the end onto the record to get sound."  
  
The two voices sang again. "And they say that a hero could save us. I'm not gonna stand here and wait... I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles. Watch as we all fly away..."  
  
"Hey, they should play more of this stuff!" said Ron.  
  
Another voice sang and the instruments cut out. "Now that the world isn't ending... it's love that I'm sending to you. It isn't the love of a hero... and that's why I fear it won't do..." The music kicked up again.  
  
"I hope they do, I could get used to this!" said Hermione.  
  
The two voices sang once again. "And they say that a hero could save us. I'm not gonna stand here and wait... I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles. Watch as we all fly away..."  
  
The three of them listened as the song finished up.  
  
"And they're watching us... (watching us...). They're watching us... (watching us...)... as we all fly away."  
  
"Hey, look at Malfoy!" said Harry, pointing at him. Ron and Hermione laughed instantly. Malfoy was making faces, obviously disgusted at the song. "He has no sense of self, that kid."  
  
"And you cry too much, Potter," said Malfoy as he stood up. Harry must have spoken more loudly than he intended. "They say that a hero will save us?" He laughed coldly. "Better not hold your breath, since Harry obviously isn't the one who's going to stop You-Know-Who this time!"  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione screamed at him. "With You-Know-Who around there WAS a world full of killing!"  
  
"Yeah but he's back..." said Malfoy smirking madly. Harry's scar began to tingle. He tried to hide the fact. "...and he's trying dearly hard to get rid of you, Potter. Let's just hope he succeeds some time soon." The scar hurt more, it was now like pressing a needle gently against his forehead.  
  
Harry stood up and stepped onto the table, walking over it so he could stand face to face with Malfoy. He lifted his bangs so Malfoy could get a clear look at his lightning-shaped scar then looked down so it was eye level with Malfoy. "You see this?" he said threateningly soft. "It hurts whenever Voldemort is feeling to hurt me. Right now it hurts. It's caused me much more pain than you could ever imagine. I'd be happy to show you, but that would land me in Azkaban." Harry emanated of hatred. "I know your father's a Death Eater... and I'd just as soon kill him as you." The pain from the scar grew to where he had to squint and press a hand against it.  
  
"Harry..." said Hermione to him as she dropped her fork on the floor. She got up and pushed Harry onto her seat but he turned to face Malfoy. Harry's skin started to glitter on it's own. "I think you better calm down or you're gonna go ballistic again." Harry pointed a finger at Malfoy, his right arm fully outstretched and palm still visible from underneath. He turned his hand so his palm faced upwards then slowly arced his arm upwards so his finger pointed straight up. Then Harry put his arm on the right side of his face and whipped it quick across his vision and upwards, palm facing out.  
  
A gust of tornado force winds sent Malfoy soaring just over the heads of the people at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. He hovered over the Slytherin table for a moment then slammed onto it, cracking it in two.  
  
Harry then fell forwards onto the floor, curled up in pain. It felt exactly like the last time it hurt -- like having a rod sticking out his forehead that was most definitely lodged deep inside his head. The only thing he was aware of was the crowd of black figures beginning to surround him. One figure bent down and Harry could almost make out the apparent pretty shape sitting on top of it's black cloak.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" said one voice he didn't recognize.  
  
"The scar!" squealed another voice.  
  
"Oh you've all seen it before. Stop acting like it's rare!" This voice was Hermione's.  
  
Someone else said, "Ha, ha, look at him!" No sooner did this voice speak than one of the figures around him go careening backwards out of view.  
  
"Do you all want scars? I'M SURE HE'LL BE HAPPY TO GIVE HIS TO YOU!" bellowed Ron. One figure wearing blue bent down and tried to slip him a few drops of a potion. Half the goblet spilled down Harry's chin but a few hit their target. The pain was going away as was his hearing and vision.  
  
Harry woke up in his bedroom with Hermione, Ron and... Cho? They were all sitting on Ron's bed talking quietly but stopped abruptly when Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes.  
  
"It happened again, didn't it," said Harry feeling ashamed.  
  
"There's nothing to be ashamed about, Harry," said Hermione. "Dumbledore was not upset at you, he was upset at Draco and that evil girl Pansy Parkinson." Harry stared bleary eyed at Hermione and Ron. His head felt cloudy and stuffy, his forehead sore but the pain was gone and that's always a good thing.  
  
"Er, what's Cho doing here?" said Harry, breaking into a cold sweat. He had never talked to Cho for more than a minute or so.  
  
"Yeah, that's not rude," said Cho as she got up and left. Harry's face turned scarlet. He didn't mean to be rude but he was at a loss for words. Something always twisted his stomach and screwed up his brain when Cho was in sight. Harry stared bewildered as she silently went down the stairs. He swallowed two words before getting out, "I didn't mean to be rude!"  
  
"You blew it," said Ron flatly.  
  
"Well, why was she here, anyway?" asked Harry, still waiting for an answer. Hermione repeated Cho's actions. Neither Ron nor Harry had reason to be worried as Hermione was bound to find an excuse to leave the boys dormitory anyway.  
  
"Well? You going to make an about face for the stairs too, Ron?"  
  
"Hermione knows you like her so she asked Cho to come and sit. Though you two might start talking. I don't know, girl stuff. Women... just don't tell her I told you, okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"So... yeah. Oh, Snape told me to tell you you don't have to come to class today. Guess he knows you hate him more than most anything else. He probably had a shining moment of sympathy behind that Antartic heart of ice..." - Ron started to sound like a philosopher - "a euphoria of glory, peace of mind, realization of the goodness of life, a will to spread peace and happiness... and a state of well-being." He paused, then said quickly, "Either that or Cupid shot him in the butt with an arrow." Harry and Ron started to snort then broke into sudden laughter.  
  
"That was poetic," said Harry, starting to tear he was laughing so hard.  
  
"Trelawney is starting to get to me with all of her 'The Great this' and 'The Inner Eye' that," said Ron trying to control his fit of giggles. "I just can't wait until we use our stupid potions so we can get it over with. I've been dreaming that I'll get the ghost of Pigwidgeon telling me that the name sucks." Ginny, Ron's little sister, named the owl Sirius gave him Pigwidgeon. Ron says he doesn't like Pig, as he calls the owl, but it was evident Ron would just die without him.  
  
A fleeting moment of sadness crept over Harry, but it was pushed away as quickly as it came. "I just keep dreaming I get something that will tell Trelawney she's going to die and that's how I get a passing grade." Ron held back another spell of laughter. "So, Snape really said I don't have to come?"  
  
"Yeah. Didn't say anything else. Really strange, no?" Harry looked down.  
  
"Not really. I probably would have sent him through the wall." He pointed his eyes at Ron. "If I see Draco again today I'll be sure to let him feel how much my scar hurt," threatened Harry. His skin started to glitter again and Ron noticed, staring at Harry's hand.  
  
"Snape also said we would be finishing our Spirit Potions and using them in class later today. Hermione and I will be finishing yours up for you. Professor Trelawney looked extra happy. She came to visit you here a few minutes before you woke up, said today you'd die from pain."  
  
"ARGH! That woman is going to drive me nuts before Voldemort does!"  
  
"Shh... do you have to say the name?!" said Ron trying to shush him, but there was no one to keep from hearing...  
  
"I'm not saying You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named anymore. It's Voldemort from now on. Dumbledore says it, Sirius says it and Lupin says it. That's good enough for me." Harry paused for a minute and said, "Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!" Ron winced each time Harry said it.  
  
Remus Lupin was a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for one year, Harry's third, at Hogwarts. He was quite good at teaching it, Harry thought. Unfortunately, Lupin was bitten by a werewolf at a young age. Werewolves, not being accepted by the general wizard society, were forced to hide their identity or be treated like rats. Lupin was forced to resign after his identity was revealed by a freak accident involving forgetting to take his anti-human-killing potion which Snape provided monthly. Lupin had taken a liking to Harry and it just so happens that Lupin was great friends with James Potter.  
  
"Okay, okay! V... Volde... mort." Harry's skin glowed white but he wasn't the one making it do so.  
  
"Go on, you're learning!"  
  
"Voldemort."  
  
"Good! But today you'll die from saying 'Professor Trelawney.'" They both laughed again but much lighter. Harry fell backwards onto his bed letting out two last airy giggles, but -- "Ouch!" -- he banged his head on one of the poles. "I have an hour after Professor Flitwick's, what ever am I going to do?" he said sarcastily and scratching the back of his head.  
  
"We should get going. Charms starts in five minutes." They walked silently to Professor Flitwick's class. Despite the ugly morning, Harry was in good spirits having gotten some things off his chest with Ron. Best of all, he didn't have to attend Potions today!  
  
Charms was pleasant. Flitwick had taught them a self-levitation charm. Seamus Finnigan, however, made up a several-person version and within ten minutes after Flitwick let them practice, Seamus, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Neville were dangling upside down, Hermione frantically trying to keep her skirt covering those critical parts... Flitwick allowed Hermione to punish Seamus herself. She made him spin around mid air until he lost his breakfast.  
  
Charms ended and as everyone headed off to the dungeons for Potions, Harry happily went back to his bedroom. "Arithmancy," he said with a rich cheer to the Fat Lady. He stepped through the portrait hole and it was a feeling of total euphoria. One day without Snape was like a never having to live the bad dream of being a famous wizard for something so dreadful. But he did an immediate about-face and stepped back out ("Thanks for coming here for nothing"). Would it do any good to see if there was any books on calling a spirit of your own choice?  
  
He walked down the hallways, through the moving staircases and headed to the library. On the way, his skin glittered and something spoke.  
  
"I smell fear," said a voice, a cold, icy voice, not unlike one he had heard three years before. The Chamber of Secrets, built by Salazar Slytherin, was home to a basilisk, a snake, who's voice only a Parselmouth could hear. It was Salazar's goal to rid Hogwarts of any student who was not a pure blood wizard or witch. In Harry's second year, he killed the basilisk. The voice had the same ice cold and bone-chilling effect. Surely the basilisk was not still alive?  
  
A lone shiver went straight down Harry's spine. He stopped dead in his tracks in the hallway leading to the library. There was nothing he could think of that would stop his shaking. Were it not for the tears of Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, Harry would have died down in the Chamber. A stroke of luck made Harry spit the words "Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore," to Tom Marvolo Riddle, the teenage version of Lord Voldemort.  
  
He had preserved his spirit inside a diary during his days at Hogwarts. Fawkes, sensing Harry's faithfulness, came to his rescue with the Sorting Hat, which, unbeknownst to Harry, contained a blade of Godric Gryffindor. The basilisk pierced Harry's arm with venom, almost killing him, when Harry drove the blade into the basilisk. Tears of a phoenix, however, have extraordinary healing powers and Harry was able to get out alive, having killed the basilisk and then destroying the diary, killing the memory of Tom Riddle.  
  
He decided it best to ignore the voice. One near death experience with a snake more than twenty feet in length and wide enough to swallow him hole, coupled with many experiences of the same nature, is enough for one lifetime. Harry knew he would be thinking about it for the rest of the day, but now was just not the time to worry about the Chamber of Secrets once more.  
  
Voldemort had control of him, or at least that's what was supposed to be. Harry was, up to now, successful at fighting off Voldemort's control, who had to be halfway across the world. Sirius had been seen and there's no word back from him yet on his safety. Harry was prone to sudden breakdowns and violent, explosive behavior. All of this had been putting a burden he didn't know how much longer he could bare. So much seemed to go wrong and none if it looked like it would go right soon.  
  
In his reminiscing, he didn't notice he had taken a seat against a wall, holding his legs up to himself with his arms staring blankly at the opposite wall. He was still shaking slightly over the voice and over his own thoughts.  
  
Clunk, clunk, clunk. A familiar sound was coming down the hallway. Harry looked up and turned to face the black figure limping towards him.  
  
"Hello, Harry," said Alastor Moody. "Feeling gloomy?" Harry met, or thought at least, Moody in his fourth year. Moody was an Auror, a Dark wizard catcher. Dumbledore had thought to bring Moody to Hogwarts in Harry's defense. Bartemius Crouch's son (both of whom had the same name), secretly working for Voldemort, had been using Polyjuice Potion all year disguising himself as Moody. A long chain of events lead Harry scrambling to defend himself and leave with the dead body of Cedric Diggory after a fouth near-death experience with Voldemort. The Triwizard Tournament Cup had been made a portkey, an artifact that transports the toucher to a location, to transport Harry to Voldemort. Harry had convinced Cedric to grab it with him...  
  
Harry didn't want to mention the voice of the basilisk, so instead he said, "You know what's wrong with me, just like everyone else?"  
  
"Yep. Wouldn't believe it unless I saw it for myself, though," he said, checking Harry from head to toe, who didn't notice his skin was still glittering and abruptly stopped it. "Nothing to be ashamed of, the mark has been something coveted for thousands of years. Many of us would give several limbs for it." Moody smiled, stretching the terrible scars on his face. His magical eye bounced back and forth rapidly. One of Moody's legs was a wooden plank... did he try to get the mark?  
  
"Plenty to be ashamed of," said Harry quietly. "I think the ancients were Dark wizards."  
  
"Nonsense, Harry!" said Moody in disbelief. "Scriptures, tomes, tales, stories and all kinds of literature tell of them."  
  
"Hagrid, Ron and Hermione all believe me. Hagrid had been reading a book about them and it's all suggesting they started good but went bad."  
  
"I don't know where you kids get these ideas. And somehow it seems you've tricked Hagrid, too." Harry bolted off the floor and started to walk towards the Great Hall, it was, afterall, nearly lunch time. He had spent the entire time up until lunch sitting against the wall. Moody tried to follow, but Harry made his skin glow perfect white and stopped Moody's footsteps cold with a hand out at his side, pointing up, back of it facing Moody. Harry knew Moody couldn't move his legs as he walked disgruntled to the Great Hall. He put his hand down as soon as he left the corridor and was out of Moody's sight.  
  
He was a few minutes early and there was no one besides Professor Dumbledore sitting on his chair with a book in his hand. Harry took his usual seat three-quarters near to the end of the Gryffindor table. He sat and folded his arms, hands dangling off the edge, staring just ahead of his arms. His breath got heavier than he intended and his mind wandered about past events... more specifically, the basilisk and Voldemort.  
  
Harry would like to think of it all as just a bad dream, but as Dumbledore kindly reminded him,  
  
"It's not just a bad dream, Harry," he said consolingly. "Good will come of it."  
  
"What good?" he said, near tearing and resting his head on his arms. "What's good that has happened in the past four years? I'm not living with the Dursleys all year round, that's it! And to top it all off I'm going to fail Diviniation. I swear, the next time Voldemort tries to kill me, I'm going to let him." Dumbledore, amazingly, smiled.  
  
"But he's failed four times," he said with bright eyes. "Are you not starting to think it's not going to happen?" Harry pierced Dumbledore with a confused eye. "First year, Professor Quirrel, Voldemort's host, died. Second year, you killed a basilisk and a preserved spirit, third year you discover you have a Godfather and fourth year, you escape with your life again-"  
  
"So? Sirius is missing and Voldemort isn't giving up even though he's halfway across the planet."  
  
"...fourth year during the summer, the blessed Mark of Ancients comes to your rescue." Harry's slightly livened spirit dropped like a rock to the floor.  
  
"IT'S NOT GOOD!" bellowed Harry. Dumbledore was now the one piercing with a confused eye. "You heard me," said Harry coldly, standing up to his full height facing Dumbledore, "it's evil." He scrambled to get the rest of the following words out as if it were against the law to say. "Hagrid, Ron and Hermione all believe me but no one else does, not even Moody, who by the way I ran into on the way here."  
  
He slumped back into his seat, back against the table. "I give up," he said softly. "No one else's going to believe me if you don't." He turned around and went back into the position of folded arms, hands dangling off the edge, staring blankly directly ahead of his arms. Harry could hear Dumbledore's footsteps going back towards his chair. Harry sat, brooding.  
  
More footsteps entered the Great Hall. He turned to see Cho and Hermione giggling. He forced a smile in their direction when they could see him but they walked towards the empty Ravenclaw table. They weren't both still bitter... were they? Ron soon followed. He, thankfully, walked over and took a seat opposite Harry. He was carrying a potion in one hand.  
  
"That my Spirit Potion?" asked Harry, trying dearly to hide his current state.  
  
"Yeah," said Ron, looking unhappy himself.  
  
"What, something go bad in Potions?"  
  
"Yeah," repeated Ron in the same fashion. "Snape never looked happier today. He took twenty points from Slytherin and actually gave us fifteen! Snape went on and on about he hates teaching arrogant people."  
  
"I'm not... 'arrogant'..."  
  
"Not what Snape thinks. He said flatly in class that he hates how you break rules and constantly defy him." Ron giggled. "Poor Snape."  
  
"What's up with Hermione?" said Harry, dearly wishing the subject would change and pointing at her. It was hard to see her now among the small flood of people coming in.  
  
"Been talking to Cho all day. Hasn't mentioned you at all. I'm tellin' you, just don't bother." Harry nodded in agreement.  
  
"You know what all of us completely forgot about?"  
  
"What?" said Ron, wondering what Harry could possibly be talking about.  
  
"OUR O.W.L.S!"  
  
"Oh, no! Supposed to be hard, they are. No idea about the tests! Ugh!" Ron suddenly giggled, then looked over Harry's shoulder. Harry looked where his head was pointed and saw -- he was looking at Hermione. O.W.L.s, Ordinary Wizarding Levels, were a level of qualification of one's magic ability.  
  
"Oh she's going to be really upset," said Harry giggling too. "When do we have to take them, you know?"  
  
"Supposed to be end of first term of your fifth year," he said looked strikingly terrified. It was their fifth year, and the term was ending in three short weeks. "We'll never have enough time to prepare!"  
  
"Would it be cruel if we were to tell Hermione now and let her worry over it or let Dumbledore mention the date and have her worry all at once?" said Harry with a twinkle in his eye.  
  
"Let's wait," said Ron.  
  
They both looked in Hermione's direction and giggled to themselves. The Great Hall was teeming with people and most of the tables were full. Ginny, Ron's little sister (who had a kind of crush on Harry since they first met) came up to them, for once. She was tricked, during her first year (Harry and Ron's second) to open the Chamber of Secrets by Tom Riddle's diary. The memory of Tom was draining her life and nearly ended up killing her. It was the destruction of the diary that brought her back to life. Ginny blushed even more around Harry ever since then. She was only a year younger than both of them.  
  
"Ginny, you have your own friends to sit next to," barked Ron. Ginny didn't move away and she sat herself down right next to Ron, probably too embarassed to sit next to Harry. Seamus, Neville, Lee and Angelina Johnson, one Gryffindor Chaser for their Quidditch team, came over and sat down as well.  
  
"What, are we having a party I wasn't told about?" said Harry, looking at all of them. Ginny, as could be predicted, turned a shade of apples.  
  
"The last duel is tonight," said Angelina. "There's one just after lunch between two other students. Divination is canceled."  
  
Lee laughed. "Oh you shoulda seen the look on Trelawney's face. The class we were supposed to use our Spirit Potions in, canceled... again!" Harry started to feel happier. The next best thing he was good at, or rather the second best thing he seemed to be good at given his success at it and being a Quidditch Seeker, was dueling. He had not lost a match yet although he had come close a few times.  
  
"The last duel is definitely going to be between you and Thantanos Brev," said Ginny. "He's from Durmstrang. Has the mark, supposed to be a very, very skilled dueler. He knows a bunch of spells you're only supposed to know if you work as an Auror."  
  
"Shame I can't use Clades Ultimus," said Harry innocently. Everyone eyed him funny. He probably shouldn't have said that. "What?" he said innocently again. "Kidding, just kidding!" No one seemed to change their look at his words. He went back into his position of folded arms, hands dangling off the edge of the table, staring just ahead of his arms and said gloomily, "Who's in the first round?"  
  
"Brev and some girl named Ampla D' Efectio," said Ron cautiously, still eyeing Harry. "She's supposed to be really good too. Guess we'll see in just over an hour eh?"  
  
Harry knew he was good too, but, would he be defeated? What if these people were a whole lot better than him? What if the mark failed and he got hurt? Harry's self confidence dropped in the face of adversity. He suddenly had the feeling that he was just a local success and Brev would be the one to show him how bad a wizard he really is.  
  
The Great Hall had finally filled up with people. Hermione and Cho hadn't come back and it was safe to say they wouldn't come back at all. Everyone but Harry had dug into their lunch.  
  
"You better eat, Harry," said Ron, looking worried. "Lunch ends in five minutes!" Clunk, clunk, clunk. Moody's distinctive limp could be recognized miles away, but no one turned to look for him. "Brev has squashed everyone he's dueled. The longest one versus him was about two minutes! Two!"  
  
"I'm not hungry. I've got a lot more than the stupid duel on my mind." Ron knew what he was talking about. Lee, Seamus, Angelina and Ginny had no clue and it was probably better that they didn't.  
  
"Cheer up, Harry," said Moody. Everyone turned to look at Moody, who was standing behind Harry. Both his normal eye and magical eye (which seemed to have properties such as being able to see behind him and look through solid wood) stared straight at Harry. It took Harry a few moments to realize all the eyes staring at him were hoping he'd win. He stayed in the position but his heart jumped a beat -- more people were crowding around.  
  
Words tumbled out of his mouth he didn't want to say. "What are you all standing there for? No attraction here, I'm going to lose." He sat wriggling in his chair until --  
  
"You're right!" It was the same venomous voice from before... the cold, vemonous voice of the basilisk. He stopped moving and the faces around him seemed to disappear. Harry wasn't aware of anything except the fear that seemed to pierce him from heart to stomach. The voice was talking to him now and any reason for that would be hard to find. The faces around him walked away sulkily except that of Ginny and Ron.  
  
"Get up, Harry," said Ron. "Dumbledore has to move the tables away." Harry got up from the table slowly, staring blankly at space in front of him. The tables slid against the side walls and the dueling platform materialized in the center next the teachers' stand. Two walked out of the crowd of people. Ampla D' Efectio had long red hair, a stark contrast to the bleeched white hair of Thantanos Brev. Both of them wore what looked like standard robes from their respective schools despite the fact that everyone was repeatedly told you could wear whatever you wanted. They were not very creative, apparently. It was an international event, after all, and wizards could not help but show off to each other.  
  
It took a few minutes for everyone to get a good view, for the duelers to get their briefing and to get into their corners, wands at the ready. "Fight fair," started Dumbledore's magnified voice, "fight clean... duel!"  
  
It had to be the quickest duel ever. Brev's skin glowed a perfect smoky-quartz black and he said not two words before glancing over at D' Efectio's hourglass. It was empty.  
  
"Wow," said Ron. "What spell did HE use?" Harry was just as amazed. His insides felt like the basilisk had crawled inside him, twisting, tearing and eating up his stomach. He didn't want to know what spell Brev used, he wanted to know why his skin glowed like that.  
  
"Brev wins!" shouted Dumbledore happily. "There will be a fifteen minute intermission and the final match, between Thantanos Brev and Harry Potter, will take place!"  
  
He immediately dropped his happy face and walked off with Moody. Harry still didn't know what Moody was doing here and Harry's own mood seemed to shrink. Brev was quite obviously a good wizard and not afraid to show it off. The rumors he would lose against Brev were not totally confounded.  
  
"Good luck, Potter!" said someone. Harry turned to see the pale and happy face of Malfoy. "Better make sure that mark glows as bright as possible or we'll be peeling you off the walls." Malfoy walked away and Harry turned his attention to someone else.  
  
A strange girl, a few years older than Harry, stepped out of the crowd and made her way toward Brev. Her hair was hidden inside her hood but her face was clearly visible. She was decently pretty, but not, at least to Harry, on the likes of Cho. The girl wore a white cloak, covering whatever was underneath it and it was not hard to spot her in the sea of black Hogwarts robes. She grabbed Brev by the arm and tugged him forcefully towards Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Harry ignored Ron trying to get his attention and strained to hear Dumbledore and the girl talking but all he could make out was a load "YES!" from her. After the full fifteen minute intermission, she stormed into the crowd looking angry and Brev got back on the platform also looking disgruntled. Whatever upset him sure wasn't good for Harry. His confidence dropped even lower. What if he, too, was defeated in under five seconds?  
  
"Go get em, Harry!" called a few voices as Dumbledore began to speak. Harry's stomach lurched. He didn't have a prayer. Brev was just too good.  
  
"We are on the last match of the International Wizarding School Tournament! Thantanos Brev and Harry Potter, please step up!" Harry drudged onto the platform and caught sight of the girl again... and Cho. Cho was not looking back, but the other girl's eyes were moving rapidly between himself and Brev. She stopped on Harry for a minute, let out a weak smile and began to eye Brev heavily.  
  
In his staring, Harry hadn't noticed the duel already started. Spells, charms and curses of all kinds bounced off Harry's perfect-white glowing skin. He finally noticed when Brev spoke to him. "Hey, scarface!" he barked, "I can win whenever I want, you know!" Harry felt as such as he noticed the golden glitter on Brev's skin.  
  
"Then do it already," said Harry, getting his wand out. Brev's skin began to glow the common perfect-white and he wasted no time with it.  
  
"Lacarnum inflamoree," said Brev, pointing his wand at Harry. Harry managed to tag the tip of the bolt of fire shooting towards him. His wand absorbed it completely.  
  
Brev tried again. "Infernus grandis inflamora!" The air grew hot and a crack in the very earth appeared under Harry's feet, much larger than he ever mustered. He would've fallen in it had he not muttered "Adsisto leviosa" under his breath. Harry rose a few feet above the crack. Flames shot out of Brev's wand but Harry caught them with his own and the spell finally faltered.  
  
Brev tried a third time. He muttered two words and a red light shot very quickly out of his wand, very fast, too fast for Harry to absorb. He was knocked backwards a few feet and sat, dumbfounded, supported by his forearms. They both glanced at their hourglasses. Harry's had one grain left, Brev's was full. Harry panicked. If he didn't stop Brev now, he would lose.  
  
"Fides in flamma, fides in ipse," chanted Harry, not knowing what he was saying. His hands were clasped tight and something powerful and energetic ran through him. "Accio caeles intus venia." A haze filled the room so thick Harry could feel it. "Ambio iaculor in comae exsuscito." A high pitch noise like a deadly-strong gust of wind cut through the air but there was no wind to speak of. Harry opened his eyes and finished the spell. It was hard to see through the thick white haze filling the room. "Ad aborior absolvere!" He felt weak as the surge of energy left him and staggered back a few steps.  
  
Three pearly-white balls suddenly appeared at Brev's head arranged in a circle parallel to the floor with a diamaeter reaching shoulder to shoulder. Each was about as big as Brev's own head and they began to spin slowly. A strong gust of wind, perfectly fitting the noise, sent the balls crashing to the ground, exploding on contact with the floor. Everyone in the room was sent to their feet, some falling on their backs. Smaller pearly-white balls bounced erratically out from the previous three balls all over passing through whatever they touched including the walls of the Great Hall. The haze disappeared as soon as all the pearly-white balls left the room.  
  
Harry glanced over at Brev's hourglass. It was empty.  
  
"HARRY POTTER WINS!" shouted Dumbledore, most likely a lot louder than he intended. A surge of happiness now shot through Harry on the likes of the energy from the spell he just casted. It was a great relief to know his excessive worry in the past hour could be put to rest. His own arms jumped up in triumph as a sea of arms grabbed him from every direction. It was the same euphoric feeling when Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup in Harry's third year -- it was very nice. A big grin crossed his face and his own thoughts dissolved into cheers from Hogwarts students.  
  
He wanted to tell Ron something. The girl was looking at him again. Harry got away from the hands and he tugged on Ron's cloak.  
  
"What?" said Ron, annoyed at being pulled away.  
  
"See that girl in the white cloak?" said Harry, pointing at her. He tried to ignore the slight tingle that erupted from his scar.  
  
"Yeah, can't miss her," said Ron. He had a sudden look on his face. "Harry! You're ditching Cho!?" he said shocked.  
  
"WHAT?" said Harry. No way was he ditching Cho. "No! Do you know who she is?"  
  
"No," said Ron blankly.  
  
"She's been pulling Brev around," said Harry, still ignoring the slight tingle that turned into a pain that made him wince.  
  
"Harry," said Ron flatly. "Forget it. We have other things to worry about. Like our O.W.L.s, and the look on Hermione's face when she finds out."  
  
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Harry watched as the girl tugged Brev straight out of the Great Hall. The pain disappeared as soon as they disappeared as if Brev was the cause.  
  
There was a huge party in the Gryffindor Tower commons that night that lasted until everyone's eyes refused to stay open anymore. Many people were awake until two or three in the morning despite the fact that they would have to get up for classes in just a few hours.  
  
Tuesday afternoon, Professor Trelawney finally had them ready to use their Spirit Potions.  
  
"Your Potions will make your spirit-talking ability far more potent than normal," she droned. "We will go one at a time but I only expect you to get a spirit to speak for a few moments. One year I had a student call a very bad looking spirit and that was the last time I ever made stronger Spirit Potions-"  
  
"Wonder if it was her own spirit," Ron whispered to Harry.  
  
"Ron, ten points," she said glaring at him. "Now for the rest of you, I will call you one by one and assist you."  
  
She called a lot of names, many of which Harry still hadn't memorized. Lavender Brown was called third. Lavender admired Professor Trelawney for some strange reason. She drank her potion, blabbed a few words and a pearly-white smoke came billowing out of her crystal ball. Lavender walked away sulkily to her seat next to Parvati Patil, her best friend who unfortunately also admired Trelawney. She Parvati fared a little better. The ghost of what seemed to be some dead brother's girlfriend's aunt's father's half removed second twin told some girl that she would forget something in about fifteen minutes. Just to make sure, Harry asked her what happened fifteen minutes earlier. She didn't remember.  
  
"Ron, please come up," beckoned Trelawney. Ron stood up from his chair, shaking head to toe. It was obvious Trelawney intimidated him. Afterall, no one knew what to expect. He chugged down his potion, the full goblet of it in two gulps and plopped down in front of Professor Trelawney. After some more word babbling, a puffy white smoke emerged from the crystal ball into the shape of a spider. Ron and Harry recognized it as Aragog, an overgrown spider they met in the forest a few years back. Thankfully, it did nothing more than click it's pincers and leave Ron with a horrible sense of foreboding. He took his seat next to Harry, shaking even more from head to toe.  
  
"Potter," called Trelawney. Harry drank his entire potion in one gulp and walked calmly to the crystal ball in front of the room. He would like to be able to call a spirit of his own choice, he thought to himself, as Trelawney explained the procedure. His mom? His dad? What if Tom Riddle's spirit appeared? It would be a lot better if it was someone he didn't know. Grandparents? A great grandparent? His mind wandered on people... but only those related to him.  
  
He missed the speech from Trelawney, lost in his own thoughts and when she said, "Harry? Please start," he had no idea what to do. Harry simply his eyes and didn't speak. He told himself, "Do something!". Whatever did something, it worked.  
  
He opened his eyes and the form of the girl he had seen at the duel yesterday afternoon was floating in the air between himself and Professor Trelawney. The girl wore the same white robe, her hood covering her hair. Only from the waist up was visible, the rest was shrouded in thick smoke. She kept a straight face for several moments then opened her mouth to talk. Before she could let a word out, the smoke was whisked away. Professor Trelawney stared at him with an open mouth.  
  
"But-"  
  
"Save it, Professor Trelawney," he said, not caring what she had to say. "Is class-" he started to say as the bell just rang, "-yes it is. Thanks. Goodbye." He grabbed Ron by the hood and pulled him in the opposite direction as where everyone else was walking.  
  
"You recognized her didn't you," said Harry trying to force and answer out of Ron, still holding his hood. His breath was heavy. Something about that girl clearly bothered him.  
  
"Let go," said Ron, pulling his hood out of Harry's hand with his own.  
  
"Sorry." Harry put his hand down. "It was her!" he said in a strong whisper.  
  
"What are you going to do, stalk her?" Harry started to talk but Ron interrupted him immediately, "NUH-UH! Harry, you have enough to worry about. She's here doing something with Professor Dumbledore. Leave it at that." Harry's spirits seemed to return to normal. Ron has been saying a lot of things that seemed to make sense lately. It was either that, or Harry was making less sense lately.  
  
Ron's words stuck with him that night and all through mid year exams. Unfortunately, Ron himself didn't. He, too, had started to separate himself from Harry in the hallways, avoiding Harry everywhere he went. Harry could only think that he startled Ron by mentioning the girl, as well as the apparition of her in Divination. But all was not bad.  
  
Trelawney cornered Harry the last day of class to tell him he would be passing with flying colors for the performance with his Spirit Potion. Harry continued to see the girl at least once a day roaming the halls ever since the first sighting. Her presence became somewhat comforting and after a few days they started to say "Hello," as they passed in the hall. Neither of them could explain why, it was more of an instant bondage. It still wasn't like anything Harry felt when Cho was around but this mystery girl seemed to bring calmness when she was near.  
  
It was, finally, nearing Christmas. The halls were beginning to be decorated with all kinds of ornaments. Sparkling balls, wood nymphs that lived inside small glass balls and assorted shapes and sizes of stars that glowed. The armor in the hallways had been laced with green and red trimmings, most likely Professor Flitwick's doing. He was, afterall, the only Professor short enough to add that much detail.  
  
Professor Trelawney is the one responsible for the small amount of incense that Harry despised smelling crossing the entrance hall. It was only a few nights ago that the teachers collected in the Great Hall to decorate trees. Hagrid lumbered in with several large pines and Flitwick got immediately to coating it with ornaments and wooden elves. After a few hours, Peeves the Poltergeist had caused a raucous large enough to make Hagrid stomp his large feet, shaking the entire Great Hall. Filch came to the rescue with the Bloody Baron, the only castle ghost capable of controlling Peeves.  
  
After some sobbing and butterbeer, Hagrid returned to decorations. Harry did his own sulking and had been keen on avoding mistletoe. Ron had many encounters with the not-so-pretty kind. That and Harry wanted Cho to be his first. It wasn't until the day before Christmas that he would get a nasty surprise.  
  
Feeling extra lonely, he put on his father's Invisibility Cloak, which Dumbledore had passed to him in his first year. Students are not supposed to walk after hours but Harry has had much experience in the manner. It was about two in the morning when he finally snuck out of the portrait hole to an unhappy Hermione opening it for him. He would be taking a midnight stroll.  
  
Everything had crossed his mind again. Hedwig had not turned up for several weeks now. Understandable as it was, it was her longest absence yet. The biggest thing to bother him was the state of Sirius and lack of communication. Hedwig's absence was none too comforting in the manner. Voldemort was almost a non-issue. There was no pain from his scar in a few weeks, no violent outbursts, no sudden shed of tears and best of all nothing out of the ordinary.  
  
He had, however, lost his closest friends. Hermione had not been speaking to Harry for the longest yet. Cho was angry with him and the only attention Harry was getting these days was the occasional "Go Potter!" which made no sense.  
  
He roamed through several hallways and through several familiar passageways. Fluffy, the three headed dog that guarded the Sorcerer's Stone (an artifact Voldemort wanted very badly) was nowhere to be found. Now that it had been four years since he almost ripped Harry, Ron and Hermione's heads off, the matter was laughable. The trapdoor had been boarded up and seemingly removed.  
  
One quick kick where the door used to be revealed a large hole. The Devil's Snare was gone and most likely was the broom that was used to get back up that lie deeper inside. Jumping down was not a good idea. He poked his wand out from the cloak, glowed his skin and said quietly, "Reparo." The wooden boards fixed themselves. He stopped the glow and headed out.  
  
Harry made an about face and headed towards a passageway he remembered being in several times four years ago. This memory had brought small tears. This was where he first encountered the Mirror of Erised. Strangely enough, there it was and there was someone else sitting in front of it, staring hard into it. It was the mystery girl Harry had become shaky friends with.  
  
Dare he walk in and interrupt her? She couldn't see him behind her, the mirror did not work like a normal one. Most ironically, Harry was wearing the same clothes he had been the first time he was here -- the same red sweater with a white undershirt beneath it and the same beige pants. He wanted to know more and went against his better judgement.  
  
He turned the corner to get a glimpse of her again. His eyes wandered at the mirror and he decided he might as well go talk to her. No harm in chatting, right? 


	8. The Mystery Girl

Chapter 8: THE MYSTERY GIRL  
  
  
"H-hey," he said as he took a few slow steps towards her. She turned around startled then went back to staring at the mirror.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she grumbled.  
  
"Feeling very bad lately," replied Harry. "Thought a midnight walk might cheer me up."  
  
"You and me both." Harry sat on the floor next to her. It was a few minutes before she spoke again. "You ever get that feeling... that something is stinging you, but you don't know what it is? Something poking you from the inside and you want to know what it is but you can't figure it out?"  
  
"I invented that feeling," said Harry, sounding a little resentful.  
  
"You know, we seem to get along well together," she said. Harry could see the back of her head looking like she might be smiling and got a little closer to her. He did feel a sort of strange bond to her, strangely like the one he felt towards his parents and Sirius but nothing like the feelings for Cho.  
  
"I almost feel like I know you," said Harry, moving in his spot feeling a little uneasy.  
  
"You need to calm yourself, gonna bust a blood vessel if you stay so tense. Sit in front of me, I'll give you a massage." Harry moved in front of her. He now had a full view of James and Lily waving at him. He wished he could actually run up and hug them but kept reminding himself the girl would think him odd and they weren't there to begin with.  
  
The girl got up and sat behind him. She must have done this before, Harry's shoulders let go of the tenseness he had been carrying around lately.  
  
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?" said Harry, feeling better than he did just a moment ago.  
  
"I see my parents," she said. "Mom's got long hair, quite pretty. Dad's hair is black and short, kind of scruffy, kinda like yours."  
  
"That's a lot like my mom and dad. What were their names?"  
  
"James and Lily."  
  
"Those are my parents' names..." The girl stopped massaging his shoulders.  
  
"What?"  
  
Harry swallowed many words before he could continue to speak. Lily and James continued to wave at him from the mirror. Harry would run away but he felt he couldn't stand up. "N-no," he said through a thoroughly shaken voice.  
  
The girl took off her hood for the first time in his presence and Harry got a close look. She had long black hair, straight as sticks but rustled at the ends, that fell down to her waist. Her eyes matched those of James. "N-no," started Harry again, "I was born a single chi-" but he swallowed the last word.  
  
"And I've never seen you before in my life." Harry bounced off the floor and walked quickly towards his cloak, picking it up. The girl called after him, "My dad's cloak! How-" but Harry hurried to put it on and ran as fast as he could out of the room. His nerves had gone thin and he just couldn't listen to anymore of it. Harry dashed like lightning through the halls, stubbing his toes against the statues of armor and most likely stirring attention towards himself.  
  
"Not again," called someone. It was the tired and sickly voice of Mr. Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker. Filch was a squib, born from a pure-blood family but without an ounce of magical ability to call his own. It was this fact that made him bitter towards every student and to him, catching a student in trouble was a dream come true. Harry had no time to stop and wait for Filch to disappear. He tiptoed out of the hallway and away from the voice.  
  
"What is it, Filch?" called the voice of Professor Snape. Harry froze. Snape was at the other end of the hallway. Dare he run past? Snape knows about his cloak and it was possible he would flail an arm out. Harry waited for the proper moment.  
  
"I heard someone kicking the statues, Severus. Sounds like a student out of bed!" His voice was overjoyed with happiness.  
  
"Potter," called Snape, walking closer to Harry. "It has to be. It always was and it always will be until that arrogant boy is finished with this school." Harry sidestepped to let Snape pass him. "He's got an Invisibility Cloak."  
  
"A WHAT?" snapped Filch. Harry tried to inch his way towards the end of the hallway. "Can't find him in one of those!"  
  
"Tonight I've come ready." Harry turned around to see what Snape could possibly be holding. It looked like a pair of binoculars but they were fully transparent. "A detector. Sees anything invisible." Harry, horrorstruck, watched as Snape did what seemed to be like petting the binoculars.  
  
"WELL USE IT ALREADY!" barked Filch. Snape held them to his eyes and slowly turned around. Any minute he would turn in the right direction. Harry tried to circle Snape and avoid the front end of the binoculars. Snape made a quick turn.  
  
"COME HERE, POTTER!" The proper moment had come. Harry made a mad dash towards the far hallway. His skin glowed - smoky-quartz black - and his legs moved faster. Snape could not keep up and after a few seconds, Harry gained enough ground to put Snape out of view. Snape would eventually corner him in Gryffindor Tower or tell Dumbledore, either was not good. Dumbledore had always had an excuse to not expell Harry and when he thought he would be, it turned out he was just protecting him. What would be his savior this time? He was caught red-handed, or rather, black-skinned, out of bed after hours and worst of all, he had upset Snape to a boiling point.  
  
Harry reached the Fat Lady who sleepily opened up and admitted him inside. He fell hard onto his four-post bed, eyes wide open, and fell asleep minutes later, possibly due to fainting.  
  
His eyes opened to slits. Something white stood over him.  
  
"Harry," it said. A hand shook his shoulder and his eyes opened slightly whiter. The girl was standing over him.  
  
"Go away," said Harry, turning over to face the wall and pulling his sheets up, trying to lay comfortably.  
  
"You're not even in pajamas, get out of bed," she said laughing. "Mom would kill you if she found you creasing your clothes." Harry stopped his moving.  
  
"What?" he said, staring at the wall directly. "No, I don't want to talk to you. Especially not in the morning."  
  
"It's almost nine o' clock. Everyone's finishing up eating a breakfast and you're sleeping. It's obvious from last night we have a lot to talk about."  
  
"What do you want?" said an annoyed Harry, turning to lay on his back and looking up at her. "Who are you?"  
  
"Wouldn't you like to know," she said. She gripped Harry's comforter and tore it right out of his hands, tossing it onto the floor. "Up." Harry got up, but he didn't stay. He walked right out of the portrait hole... where Professor Dumbledore was standing to meet him. His stomach sunk several miles.  
  
He beamed down at Harry and said simply, "Inside." There was no worth in arguing against him. The Fat Lady hadn't closed and he stepped back inside. The girl sat on a chair in front of the fire in the commons.  
  
"My name is Michelle. My full name, according to Dumbledore, is Michelle Potter."  
  
Harry felt like someone had just smashed a crystal ball over his head.  
  
"What is this, a joke? I don't have a sister," he said coldly, "I would have known."  
  
Michelle leaned forward, hands folded, arms on her knees.  
  
"Just listen to what I have to say," she said comfortingly. "Trust me that I'll understand if it comes as a shock because, as you can imagine, I didn't believe it either."  
  
"I'm listening," said Harry, still cold, getting into the same position as her.  
  
"I'm Michelle..." she said slowly, "your sister... Michelle. I'm an Auror, four years older than you." She seemed to be taking deep breaths after every few words. "I was born just four days before your birthday. Mine's July the twenty-seventh." She changed position, sitting back heavily into her chair. Spilling this story was as hard for her to tell as it was for Harry to hear. "I grew up with our parents for four years until they had you. Your first birthday was the day Voldemort, had, well... and you know Sirius was framed by Pettigrew for killing loads of Muggles and shipped off to Azkaban. He knew Pettigrew had been the Secret-Keeper to leak their location. They took you to the Dursley's house on his motorcycle.  
  
"I didn't come with you because they feared not only for our lives, but the Dursley's sanity. Dumbledore told me it was dad's idea to separate us if they ever got killed. Mom wasn't so sure about it, thought we'd never meet each other if it ever happened. Mom thought it was a very bad idea, separating us. They seemed to think Voldemort would get them and they did everything they could to stop it. She followed through with it, though. UGH! I HATE PETTIGREW! And they put me with the Weasleys." Harry shared the same hatred. Pettigrew's animagus form fit perfectly with his personality: a rat. Michelle rubbed her eyes.  
  
"My eleventh birthday, I started school at Hogwarts. You were seven. I did very well here, rivaled the seventh years when I was just in my second. My third year I had my mind set to become an Auror. The Ministry of Magic accepted it." She paused for a moment. "You know," she said giggling nervously and looking down, "our family has consisted of powerful wizards from as far back down the family tree as anyone knows. You do have more skill at magic than I do." She looked Harry in the eye then went back to looking down. "I had known about it longer than you, if you just had more confidence in yourself..." Harry's skin began to glow perfect-white.  
  
"What is with this?" asked Harry, still slightly amazed at the mark of ancients.  
  
"I thought Dumbledore told you about that?"  
  
"He did, but there's just something that I don't like about it."  
  
"It is the mark of ancients... no idea where it came from." She looked up at Harry with caring eyes. "The summer of my third year, Voldemort had come after me. Being only fourteen, you might say I overreacted. That was my first encounter with the mark. I put a memory charm on everyone I ever knew... hoping they'd forget me... with it glowing white. Back then I didn't know what it was and was sure I just needed to get away from Voldemort. I fled to the United States by Apparating into a known wizard city.   
  
"Voldemort's, and therefore our name, isn't known there. Word had got around of a missing girl, who's name was unknown, back in our home town. I went back to finish the job, taking dad's cloak so no one would see me. Soon there were just rumors of someone missing, everyone denied it. Memory charms aren't supposed to work on memories that strong, but the mark seemed to be strong enough to make it work. I disappeared from everyone I ever knew." She got up and took the seat next to Harry.  
  
"I went to try and catch Voldemort after a few months, feeling better about myself. I learned what the mark was in a few months and learned to control it. What was your third year, I found him in the United States. I tried to kill him but the spell backfired and knocked me out. I didn't die but he must have used a very strong charm on me because I forgot everything about my relatives." Her eyes began to water and she held back tears.  
  
"Something bugged me for so many years since that day. Like I lost something but I didn't know what. It wasn't until just last night Dumbledore had recognized me from a book he was reading on Aurors and saw my name next to a picture of me. We had a talk like this and he told me everything. At the end of the conversation, my memory fully returned on it's own. It's unlikely yours will because you were too young for it be made permanent." She paused again.  
  
"It's funny," she took a deep breath, "Dumbledore had placed the Mirror of Erised last night in that room and told me to go look at it. That must've been when he found the book. That's also why you aren't in trouble." She beamed at Harry brightly. "Snape had some pride to suck up and Dumbledore took the detector binoculars away from him." Harry grinned back.  
  
"Anyway, after that episode with Voldemort, I was somewhere in the U.S.A. totally lost. After another year of having no memory, your fourth year, I went looking for Voldemort again. Just this summer, you had sent Voldemort to the U.S. with an out of control Disapparition and I found him. He tried to come after me, tried to control my mark, but he couldn't. Someone who said his friend was named Alastor Moody told me to come here, said Voldemort was after some kid named Harry Potter. The name rang a bell, so here I am." Harry suddenly became very aware of his heavy breath.  
  
"Voldemort... here?"  
  
"No, not yet at least. Last I knew he was still in the United States, waiting to get here. You look scared?"  
  
"OF COURSE I'M SCARED!" bellowed Harry. He sighed, having, immediately for once, realizing what he said. A tear dripped from one eye. "I-I'm sorry... it's... it's just that everything has gone bad since as long as I can remember," he said, his voice getting softer with each word. He looked up at Michelle. "I had too close a call with him last year and I'd rather not relive it any time soon. If it's not living with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon it's having a Dark wizard trying to get me. I pissed off two girls, both friends of mine and scared away another friend. My owl is missing delivering a letter to Sirius for a few weeks now. Everyone I used to talk to is gone." He sniffed.  
  
"You're not that sad, Harry," she said consolingly as she stood up. "Fight it off. And I know what you're thinking about the mark. You think the ancients were good wizards but then they turned evil. You're right. There's plenty more secrets about them. We need to find them out." Harry didn't need to hear anymore. He jumped up and threw his arms around Michelle. He had it. He had someone other than Sirius to spill himself out to and Michelle didn't have to go in hiding. She had everything.  
  
She had experience with magic, she had years beyond him and they shared history together. He grabbed as tight as his weak arms let him and felt her arms around him. Harry didn't want to fight off the sad spell from the mark. He was too happy to care and there was no one around to make him feel embarassed. He stood there, for what seemed like days, in a warm embrace with the first person he could ever truly spill his heart out to. She would understand better than Sirius, he knew it.  
  
Michelle's grip loosened a little and she looked down at him. "After all you've been through, I can make it up to you," she said smiling with a tear. "I promise."  
  
"What's Voldemort want here?"  
  
She let go of Harry and sat down on the chair next to him as did he. "What else? He won't come after the two of us, he knows both of us can out do him any day. I think it's obvious the mark of ancients has to go. Can't let him get you again and remove the rest of your blood. He'll be much too powerful. I don't know why it glows black. It just seems to show in two sets of colors: a golden, gray or black glitter and a white or black glow. The ancients themselves did this to intimidate others."  
  
"And no one has any idea how we have this..."  
  
"Nope, not a clue. Someone said we could be descendents of ancients but that's just ridiculous. I'll eat Hedwig if that's true, they're five thousand years old and long gone. Someone else suggested to me that it spontaneously jumps from person to person or could come from being touched by, and rebounding, a curse. In your case, the scar. In my case, Voldemort's first hack at me, which, mind you, never left a scar."  
  
"Do you know what the scar is?"  
  
"I really don't know and not many offer an idea. Dumbledore said it best when he called it a warning to protect you from Voldemort. He knows you've had dreams, like last year you were dreamt of Voldemort killing a Muggle with the Killing Curse and saying Bertha Jorkins had died." Harry looked alarmed.  
  
Harry had another question he was burning to ask.  
  
"Mom and dad..." he said, quivering, "what were they like?"  
  
The two of them talked uninterrupted for hours.  
  
That afternoon was most enjoyable. Michelle got Ron and Hermione speaking to Harry again, but not Cho. She must have done it in the few minutes it took Harry to get changed and run down to the Great Hall. The four of them sat at the Gryffindor table talking amongst themselves about next term when,  
  
"Hey, Potter!" sneered Malfoy from behind Harry and Michelle. Harry turned around as did she. "Got a new girlfriend?" Michelle giggled. Only a small handful of people knew who Michelle was. She stood up and began to shake Malfoy's hand. Ron and Harry waited for the show. Hermione just sat there, waiting for the brutality to come and go.  
  
"Draco Malfoy, I presume?" she said calmly. "How are you! I'm Michelle... Michelle Potter. Pleased to meet you!" Malfoy stopped shaking her hand and tried to pull his hand away. Her grip was too tight. "What?" she said innocently. "Oh! You think I'm going to hurt you!" She let go of his hand but he looked too scared to run away.  
  
"Go on," she said threateningly, "say something bad about my brother." Malfoy's pale face turned paler, if that was at all possible. A small crowd of people gathered around. "Too scared?" Michelle ignored the people, as did Harry. She grabbed his hand and her skin glowed perfectly white. Malfoy had been transfigured.  
  
Ron, Harry and Hermione howled in laughter, spraying bits of food and drink all over each other.  
  
"Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret, makes an encore!" said Ron, tears of laughter in his eyes.  
  
"Thought you'd like it," said Michelle, winking at Ron. She proceeded to make Malfoy bounce up and down like a bunny stepping on hot coals. In their fouth year, the supposed Moody turned Malfoy into a ferret for trying to attack Harry by surprise. He bounced the ferret up and down, to the great embarassment of Malfoy. The moment was to be engraved in Ron's mind forever. "I really hate that kid," she snapped, taking a bite of her Blast-Ended Skrewt burger.  
  
"Um, c-can you t-"  
  
"Tell you how you are able to use spells you never knew?" Her tone became serious. "Listen and listen good. The ancients were damn powerful, no one denies it. There's a lot of history surrounding them but a lot of it went missing. Being an Auror, I have unrestricted access to the Ministry of Magic's very own library. Tomes, scriptures... anything in writing that concerned magic back as far as we have written documents of and in any language. A whole section as big as the library here is devoted to the ancients alone. There's plenty of lost knowledge." She leaned in close. "But what we do know for certain is that they did become Dark wizards. Every - single - teacher - here knows... but they won't let on."  
  
"Why not?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Don't know. I do know the mark has to be removed from Harry and myself before anything truly bad happens."  
  
"Won't You-Know-Who have a better chance then?"  
  
"You mean Voldemort?" said Michelle, smiling. "Yes and no. No because he won't have a prayer to control Harry. And yes, but don't forget he's failed five times now."  
  
"What's he here for?" asked Harry. Everyone had thought Voldemort was far away. Apparently not. Something tickled Harry about the current state of affairs. "I thought he was in the U.S.A?"  
  
"Why else? I was on his tail and he ran, probably hoping he could get away from me and get to you first. He most likely doesn't know I'm here, and that's good." Harry had another burning question.  
  
"What's he want to," he said, gulping, "kill me for, anyway?" Michelle took a deep sigh and a deep breath.  
  
"Dad was an Auror, the best of the kind. Old Voldie knew we had the mark since the first day he caught word of our birth. How, well, I don't know that either. With me out of the picture, now that I think about it, if he got you, I would be easy to get rid of."  
  
"All this talk of people dieing is making me sick," said Hermione, indeed, looking sick. "Can we change the subject?"  
  
"What about Sirius," said Harry, looking sulky again. "Hedwig hasn't come back for so many weeks now... I'm beginning to think she got caught." Michelle put an arm around Harry.  
  
"She'll turn up. Don't worry." At those words, lunch was over.  
  
Harry continued to try his best to avoid mistletoe, but it was Dumbledore's fault, had to be. There was one hidden high above the entrance to the Great Hall. One fateful morning, Harry and Cho found themselves under it, with Dumbledore standing right behind them.  
  
Cho stopped dead. Harry almost found himself dead. They looked up, and there it was, smirking at them. Dumbledore smiled. It didn't look like he was leaving until they kissed. They nodded at each other. It was to be quick and not noteworthy.  
  
Cho closed her eyes. Harry leaned closed. He couldn't explain it himself. He gave short peck on her lips. They hurriedly walked in opposite directions once it was finished. It was the last day of Christmas, and nobody saw. Not one. He kept kicking himself all through that day, wondering why he didn't just do it on a cheek. Now would be a good reason to use a Time-Turner, an artifact capable of sending the owner back in time a certain number of hours.  
  
Harry really had no reason to feel so self-conscious. It was a one time thing, no one saw it, Dumbledore wouldn't tell, it was over and somehow Pansy Parkinson found out. He stood in front of the Fat Lady with Parkinson right behind him. Harry was giving the password when he was so rudely interrupted.  
  
"Hey! Potter! You found yourself a better girlfriend this time! Much better than that Mudblood Granger!" Harry's skin glittered golden.  
  
"You better run before I decide to make up another spell," said Harry, fists clenched. The situation was bad enough without the entire school knowing. Harry whipped around to face her and clasped his hands and began to chant... but only he knew it was merely another wind charm. Parkinson ran like a bat out of hell. Harry's skin flickered smoky-quartz black and a rush of energy shot through him but stopped as sudden as it appeared. It was these bursts of black that worried Harry the most. It has happened before and all the time gotten him out of trouble. What is the black glow?  
  
It was night and Harry wanted to sleep. Ron and Neville had beaten him into the dormitory, both fast asleep. Harry changed into his pajamas and crawled into his four-poster. This was the first time he decided to think about recent events. He had a sister. He more than appreciated the fact, he would give his soul for the it. Sirius had gotten into trouble, deep down he knew this. Hedwig's absense became much too long to ensure the safety of Sirius.  
  
There were other things in the back of his mind he had forgotten. Sirius was supposed to contact several other wizards and one Harry knew personally, by the name of Remus Lupin. There were things to be done in preparation for Voldemort's rise to power again. It was very surprising, at least in thought, that more bad things had not started to happen. Lord Voldemort had gotten a new body and he was clearly at least as powerful as before his downfall. He, Harry, had caused it. Could he do it again?  
  
At least, at the moment, things seemed to be almost settled. Sirius was a small thought sitting idly in the back of his mind. For the time being, things seemed to be going smoothly. Harry hoped to himself things would continue to go uphill. Another thing that seemed to bother him was the voice he heard. The Chamber of Secrets, it's not open... and he saw the basilisk die. Things had hit curbside only a few, short, painful months back. These things troubled Harry over the next few days, his immediate fear being Sirius had gotten into trouble. 


	9. The Long Day

Chapter 9: THE LONG DAY  
  
  
Chrismtas had come and gone. Nothing outside of the ordinary had happened since Christmas Day. The next term was to start tomorrow. Dumbledore gave the start of term announcements one lazy evening.  
  
He stood up from his chair, staring around the room and silence fell upon the Great Hall. "I'm sure you will all be pleased to hear the first announcement," he said bursting with excitement. "This term will be the return of the Quidditch Cup!" He was right, the Great Hall exploded into applause, stomping of feet, tears of joy and screaming. "Now, now, there are a few... slight changes in light of recent events. Games and practices will only be allowed to start after the hour of seven in the morning and must be finished by eight in the evening.  
  
"Now, as most fifth years should be aware, this is the term you will be taking your O.W.L.s." Ron and Harry grinned at Hermione. They didn't get the look they expected. She wasn't shocked to hear this news. They turned their attention back on Dumbledore. "Seventh years note you will be taking your N.E.W.T.s, if you so desire, as well. Fifth years are to report here the Friday after next at nine o' clock. Seventh years are to report here this Friday at nine o' clock. At such times, you will be introduced to the tests and can begin study. The date of both exams will be announced at their respective meetings.  
  
"Lastly, you will have noticed there were no allowed visits to Hogsmeade the previous term. The first Hogsmeade weekend will be the Saturday after next, the day after fifth years are given an explanation of their O.W.L.s  
  
"That is all. Now... let the feast begin!"  
  
Harry and Ron looked at Hermione again.  
  
"You knew?" said Ron.  
  
"Of course I knew, I thought you two had forgotten!" Hermione gave them the kind of cold eyes Professor McGonagall had become almost famous for and she was becoming very good at it, too, Harry thought.  
  
"Do you know what's on them?" asked Harry.  
  
"Everything," said a stern and upset Hermione, making sure to sound as clear as possible. Harry was sure she was going to explode in anger. What was she so mad about? The answer came next. "Everything from our first five years."  
  
"That's a lot of stuff!" said a clearly shaken Ron glaring at Harry, who wore the same confused expression. Harry, too, felt worried. Neither of them had no idea how much material would be on a single test.  
  
"Yes it is," said a still very stern and very upset Hermione, "which is why you were supposed to start studying LAST TERM!"  
  
"But-"  
  
"They don't tell you. The tests are designed that way because students' grades were getting so high so they made them longer and harder. You're supposed to start studying before they tell you if you're to get any kind of good grade." She gave them some more McGonagall eyes and then added hastily, "Shut up and eat."  
  
The next day came, the first day of classes in the new term. Harry's first class was a new required one called,  
  
"Paladism," said Ron, standing just outside the door of an empty classroom down in the dungeons they've never been in. He blinked a few times in confusion at Harry and Hermione and, "What the bloody hell is Paladism?" Malfoy snuck up behind Ron. Harry caught glimpse and whatever Malfoy was going to say, he decided against it. Paladism was to be a double class with the Slytherins.  
  
"The branch of magic devoted to healing and aiding," said Professor Dumbledore as he walked down the hallways. All the students turned to look at him. He was carrying a wand in one hand and a small trunk was floating behind him.  
  
"You're teaching Paladism?" said Ron.  
  
"Yes," he said cooly. "You won't be needing your books today, just your wands. Today's class, as well as many others, will be hands on." He walked to the door and opened it up. It was a huge room, bigger than any classroom yet. The floor, walls and ceiling were made of pure stone. Light was provided by candles that seemed to glow much brighter than they should be. There were no desks, only tables lined up along the walls with chairs facing in. The room was fairly cold, average for a classroom in the dungeons. A smaller table for Dumbledore sat at the far end of the room in the center. He placed his wand and the small trunk on top of the desk and sat in his chair, motioning for everyone to do the same.  
  
Ron and Hermione took a cautious seat next to Harry, as if something bad might happen. Neville took a seat next to Hermione and Lee sat next to Ron. Harry ignored them. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and a few other Slytherins parked themselves on chairs directly opposite Harry.  
  
"Paladism is not truly a branch of magic. Paladins are warriors of light, fighting for a religious cause. This class... is based on the magic Paladins were known for best: the arts of healing and aids." He walked to the door and opened it up. Fawkes, his phoenix, came flying in and perched himself on Dumbledore's shoulder. "Today's class will be a simple lesson in mending wounds. I'm sure many of you will not volunteer." He smiled brightly at Neville, who sat trembling in his chair.  
  
"There are a few ways in which wounds can be mended. One, of course, is by wand alone. Wand magic, is unfortunately, the weakest form. If you were, to say, lose an arm, your wand would not suffice in reattachment. Potions are a highly effective first alternative. There are potions to regrow bones, Mr. Potter can attest to that, potions to cure poison, as Mr. Longbottom knows very well and, last but not least, potions to remove hexes which Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle found out this passing summer." He glared at them for a moment. Harry, Fred, George, Ron and Hermione had hexed the three of them all at once leaving them unconscious.  
  
"You already have experience in defensive magic. Defense Against the Dark Arts teaches counter-curses, for example. In here, however, you will be learning all about regenerative spells, augmenting abilities and more of that nature." He opened the small trunk. "Fortitudinus," he said, pointing his wand at one arm. Dumbledore picked up a hunk of red metal that could be no bigger than one foot long and a few inches thick. He placed it on the desk.  
  
"Someone come try to pick this up," he said. Lee tried his luck. He made a face like he was going to lose all sanity but the block didn't budge. He sat down, disgruntled. Ron got up defiantly and walked towards the block. He put one hand behind the block and the other in front of the desk.  
  
Ron pulled the block and pushed on the desk. He managed to do nothing but move the desk. He, too, sat down disgruntled. "Anyone else? Mr. Malfoy?" Malfoy stood up and walked casually to the block. He, too, could not even budge it. "Mr. Potter?"  
  
Harry got out of his chair and walked up to the block. He put one hand on either side of the block, managed to pry his fingers underneath it and pulled - hard - very hard - so hard he felt like his arms would come tearing off. Like expected, he strained every muscle in his arms but the block did not budge. Out of frustration, or out of his own will, his skin glowed perfect white. He gripped the block one last time with one hand, fingers wrapped tight around the sides and gave one last hard yank with all his might. His arm lifted fast, too fast for him to react. Shocked, his hand released the block and the block went flying, flying right through the ceiling of the classroom, shattering the stone blocks. Harry stared, dumbfounded, at the gaping hole above his head. He knew Dumbledore wouldn't be mad, he had to have expected something like this.  
  
"And that, my students, is how to move a block magically made heavier without the use of potions or wands." The block came crashing down onto the floor, plummeting a foot or so down into the ground. "Now, Harry, would you be so kind as to repair that?" As Harry expected, Dumbledore didn't look mad, he was smiling.  
  
Harry's skin continued to glow. He clasped his hands and looked up at the hole in the ceiling once more. Sunlight was visible; he had sent the block up above them, breaking every floor and ceiling and out through the top of the castle. Fragments of broken stone rustled on the floor. Fragments crawled across the floor joining up with other fragments to form whole blocks. As everyone gathered around to see what was happening, they shot upwards through the terribly deep hole. The castle's own ceiling was repaired first and the blocks continued to shoot up through the hole, locking in place where they used to be, then down through the hole in the ground, repairing it, looking as if nothing happened.  
  
A minute later, there was no damage done and the block rest again upon Dumbledore's table.  
  
"Strength. Something everyone wishes they had a lot of." He pulled out four more blocks exactly like the other one. "The chant is simply 'Fortitudinus' while pointing your wand at the target. You will be granted large amounts of strength for, at your level, a mere few seconds."  
  
Within a mere few seconds, everyone was shouting "Fortitudinus" while picking up everything imaginable with various parts of their body. Ron stood, elbow's pointing down and Harry picked up Ron by placing his arm across both elbows and pushing up gently.  
  
"Please come and try picking up these blocks." Some more "Fortitudinus" shouting and Malfoy found himself unable to do more than slide the block across the desk. Hermione managed to pick it up a few inches. About a half hour passed before Neville got it a foot before dropping it heavily onto his hand, breaking all the bones in it.  
  
"Numbus!" shouted Dumbledore, pointing his wand at Neville's hand. Neville's screaming stopped immediately. "I think it safe to say every single bone in Mr. Longbottom's hand is broken. Numbus is a charm that simply removes pain. Mending bones is quite a bit trickier." He took out a small potion from the trunk as well and told Neville to take one sip. Dumbledore put his wand down finally. Neville's hand twitched in pain but it was gone. "Wands are not capable of repairing them unless the magic is very, very strong. Removing them is much easier."  
  
"Any volunteers for the next example?" Scared of what happened to Neville, everyone sat frozen in their chairs. "Come on now, this won't hurt a bit," said Dumbledore innocently. "Miss Granger, if you will?" Hermione was one of the few who didn't look terrified because she knew, above all, Dumbledore would never intentionally hurt a student. "Please roll up your sleeve as high as possible and rest your elbow upon your desk, arm facing outwards."  
  
Dumbledore shouted, "Numbus!" at her exposed arm then gripped his wand like a knife, the tip pointing at Hermione's arm. He etched a cut, sitting from his seat, on her arm, that extended from the top of her wrist down to her elbow. "Now, rest your arm on your desk." She did so and let out a small gasp of horror at the huge cut that had suddenly appeared, painless as it was. Blood had started to leak out of it in small amounts.  
  
Fawkes immediately dived over and landed between her and her arm, so everyone could see. He lowered his beautiful head upon her huge cut. Pearly tears emerged from his eyes and dripped onto Hermione. The cut immediately began to seal itself. The bleeding stopped and Fawkes then perched himself upon her shoulder. A tail feather dropped from Fawkes as he turned around and it fell upon the small puddle of blood, absorbing all of it.  
  
"There are many creatures you will come across in your Care of Magical Creatures class, but there are not many like a phoenix. The tears of a phoenix are as powerful as the best curative potions and the best magic," said Dumbledore. He raised his arm. Fawkes clutched his tail feather in his beak, fluttered onto Dumbledore's shoulder and dropped it in front of him.  
  
"The very tears of this phoenix has mended broken bones, closed huge gashes, removed deadly snake poison and brought people back from an inch of death."  
  
Harry couldn't help but remember that Dumbledore had been talking about what Fawkes had done for him. Fawkes fluttered onto Harry's shoulder this time. Harry began to sink into his own thoughts, remembering the time Fawkes had saved him down in the Chamber of Secrets, coupled with the Sorting Hat and blade of Godric Gryffindor. A violent flash of a terrifying face crossed Harry's eyes. He blinked, very aware of the vision. Harry rested his head on his arms.  
  
"I imagine," started Dumbledore, looking around at the faces, smiling, "that no one else will be volunteering for today." Dumbledore's voice faded into a sea of other voices. One of the voices Harry clearly recognized. His vision gave and he was staring into blackness.  
  
"Where is he now?" The cold, listless, emotionless and venomous voice without sympathy could only come from one person. The face of the owner came clear into view. It had become darker, fuller with color but remained white like a skull. Those livid, wide scarlet eyes stared back at Harry, piercing through him, filled with virulence. The same nose, the same flat nose with mere slits for nostrils disturbed the image of Lord Voldemort even further.  
  
"Azkaban, master... Azkaban." Harry's vision whipped absent of his own control to face a Death Eater he knew by the name of Lucius Malfoy. He was standing directly next to Lucius. He knew from previous experience of this kind he could not be seen or heard.  
  
"And tell me once more, Lucius, how you accomplished this..." said Voldemort. The threatening tone in his voice made even Lucius shake. "And why... why I should not punish you for FOR - LEAVING - ME!"  
  
The scar upon Harry's forehead began to tingle. Lucius trembled visibly where he stood at the pure insanity that echoed in the surrounding air. Harry could see Lucius' chest beating in and out. It was not his breath, it was his very heart struggling to get enough blood around him.  
  
"Intercepted a-a-an owl, master. B-brought it straight t-to you!" He shook so visibly it looked like a small earthquake was localized directly under his feet.  
  
Harry turned so he could see both Voldemort and Lucius. Voldemort raised a wand and spoke too quietly for Harry to hear under his breath. Lucius fell to the floor, a pile of black robes and loud cries, cries so loud the heavens could hear. He jerked and writhed on the floor, affected by the Cruciatus Curse. Voldemort lowered his wand and with a motion of his free hand, sent Lucius flying backwards several feet. He landed with a thud and got slowly to his feet, half walking, half crawling back to his previous position.  
  
Voldemort's skin began to glow smoky-quartz black. It looked much more solid and brighter than Harry had ever seen his. Voldemort laughed a shrill, deafening, mad laugh. and without warning, the scar upon Harry's forehead exploded into pain like the entirety of the Cruciatus Curse was fixed upon it.  
  
Harry dropped to the floor, hands tight over the bane of his existence, the scar alight in fire, rolling and writing more madly than Lucius, or he, had ever been. It as if there was a blade digging into it, cutting into his forehead. Harry squinted so tightly another pain had erupted from his eyelids, his teeth clenched so tightly he was sure he would crack a tooth.  
  
Something soft fell heavy on his hand and he flailed the arm, shaking it off. Someone shouted.  
  
Suddenly, the dungeon room came back into focus and the pain subsided a little. Harry was curled into a ball of tears... and blood. His hands, arms and sleeves were reddened slightly with blood that could only have come from the scar. His breathing became very deep and steady gasps for life mostly to calm himself down. The pain was so strong he kept his hands over the scar to relieve aftershocks and continued to sob lightly. It was still affecting him and the excruciating memory of it was not leaving any time soon.  
  
"Oh my God," shrieked Hermione. "Harry!" Harry closed his eyes as Hermione drew nearer. His skin began to glitter a faint gold. He didn't need Ron to tell him --  
  
"Again! All over the floor, clutching your scar!"  
  
It had happened just last year during Divination but the scar didn't bleed and it didn't hurt nearly as much. He opened his eyes and peeked around the room. The table he sat at was split in two and the chairs around him where thrown all over the room. The room was filled with murmurs and shouts half of which he couldn't make out. He wished the yelling would stop as it continued to upset his already terrible headache.  
  
"What was it?" Hermione was breathing almost as hard as Harry had been during the vision and looked twice as scared. Harry motioned for her and Ron to bend down.  
  
"Sirius..." he said softly. "Caught. Lucius... got Hedwig..." Harry could feel nothing aside from the rising surge of hatred towards Lucius and Voldemort. Dumbledore strode swiftly over to Harry and put an arm down for Harry to grab. He pulled on it and stood, staggering on his feet.  
  
There was another quick flash of Voldemort's face and the shrill laugh. He staggered on his feet again and his knees gave. He fell onto his hands, his scar tingling again slightly with the entire class staring at him, horrified. No one had any words to say. Dumbledore simply motioned everyone to leave the classroom, holding back Hermione, Ron and Harry. Harry took a seat near the wall, leaning against it, holding his legs up to himself with his arms, staring blankly at the opposite wall. Ron and Hermione simply stood on either side of him.  
  
"Voldemort..." said Harry quietly, his voice shaking. "Talking to Lucius. Said he caught... Hedwig. Someone was put in Azkaban... has to be Sirius." He looked up at Dumbledore, full of fear, then exchanged the same expression with Ron and Hermione.  
  
"As much as you hate to hear it, nothing can be done as of now, Harry. Are you up to attending the rest of your classes?" said Dumbledore.  
  
"Yeah," he lied, springing to his feet.  
  
"Go get changed," said Hermione. "Once is enough."  
  
Harry felt exactly the same way. As used to the smell of dried blood as his nose once became, it took a week or two of being unconscious for that to happen. He went up to his bedroom and put on a quick change of robes, washed himself up and went back to the dungeons. Potions was next.  
  
"Wonder where Snape is," said Harry.  
  
"You sound like you miss him," said Ron.  
  
"Of course not."  
  
"I can't wait until he gets back," said an irritating voice behind them. Harry turned around to look at Malfoy, his skin now glowing perfect white.  
  
"Malfoy, I swear, if you don't stop one of these days I'm really going to kill you," threatened Harry.  
  
"And the Dark Lord will kill you soon after, Potter. I don't have anything to fear from you."  
  
"You will when you find yourself under the influence of both Cruciatus and Imperius then I decide to use the Killing Curse," said Harry, flatly. "Run, Malfoy," he said softly, "Run away before I explode into more violent behavior." Hermione gaped at Harry's words, hardly believing he said it. Malfoy raised his wand, but Harry was far too quick. "Expelliarmus!" Malfoy's wand jumped out of his hand and into Harry's.  
  
"You expect after all this time for me to not become a very, very skilled wizard?" A grin crossed Harry's face. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he bellowed, wand pointed at Malfoy, his voice echoing through the dungeons.  
  
A rush of something huge, something massive ran through the corridor, stopping halfway between Harry and Malfoy, but the green light was halted halfway between Harry and Malfoy. The surrounding crowd stood horrorstruck. Harry stood shaking his wand violently from his own fear.  
  
"Do it..." said a venomous voice. "You want him dead... just let it go..." The voice spoke to Harry and he would have done it had a voice in the back of his head not have said, "What would Dumbledore say?" The green light faded and Harry chucked Malfoy's wand at the farthest wall.  
  
For the next fifteen minutes, Harry stood alone. Ron and Hermione were talking with Lee and Neville and everyone wondered where Snape was. Harry didn't feel sorry, Malfoy had it coming.  
  
After fifteen more minutes, everyone thought Snape wasn't coming and left for their commons. Harry sat in a corner with Michelle, neither of them talking. It appeared Ron and Hermione shared Harry's feeling Voldemort had gotten Snape... but how? They were not going to tell Dumbledore and Harry thought it best to keep his mouth shut, too.  
  
Michelle forced Ron and Hermione to speak to Harry during lunch that afternoon, but it wasn't talk amongst friends and Harry was not eating again.  
  
"You could've killed him!" squealed Hermione. Harry sat calmly at the Gryffindor table, arms folded, hands dangling off the edge, staring just ahead of his arms.  
  
"So what?" said Harry apathetically. He then suggest Malfoy go do something that turned a number of heads.  
  
"Harry!" barked Michelle, astonished.  
  
"I don't care," he said. "He had it coming. Dumb git wants to make me mad when he knows I'm going to do something bad. I think I'm losing control. I've heard a voice three times now."  
  
"Heard what?" asked Michelle very suddenly.  
  
"The basilisk..." said Harry sulkily.  
  
"What?" shrieked Ron. "No," he said, denouncing Harry's words. "Can't be... you killed it, it's dead!"  
  
"What do you mean..." said Hermione, and after taking a breath, "'talking to you'?"  
  
"Talking to me," said Harry, looking up. "First time it said 'I smell fear' then, 'You're right' when I said I was going to lose the duel against Brev and just now it told me to let the spell go towards Malfoy. I don't know what to do anymore."  
  
He went back to staring down. Michelle put an arm around him and let him rest his head on her shoulder. Harry found her warmth very comforting.  
  
"Well, what do we do?" said Ron.  
  
"WE aren't going to do anything!" snapped Hermione. "The last thing Dumbledore wants is Harry in harm's way."  
  
"He's been in harms way since-"  
  
"Sirius..." said Harry in a voice, quivering, but full of confidence, "we have to get him back." He pulled away from Michelle and looked up at them with an air of determination.  
  
"Well, there's no changing his mind," said Ron, seeing the look in Harry's eye.  
  
"I don't like the sound of that..." said Hermione, seeing it too.  
  
"You're not going to try to... break into Azkaban, are you?" said Michelle, looking more worried than Ron or Hermione.  
  
"That's exactly what I had in mind," said Harry matter-of-factly with a bit of finality. He finally took a sip from his goblet and stuffed some food onto his plate. The four of them ate quietly through the rest of lunch.  
  
Defense Against the Dark Arts was next. Snape had taught it last term but no one seemed to think he would be showing up for this either. Everyone took a seat inside the room.  
  
Clunk, clunk, clunk.  
  
"Hello, class." All heads turned upon the scarred and torn face of Mad-Eye Moody. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked almost cheerful. "Unlike most of your classes, this will be primarily hands on. I'll be teaching Potions as well, by the way." He walked to his desk, sat down, put both his legs up on the desk and gazed around the room. He looked quite refreshed and cheerful, the exact opposite of Harry at the moment.  
  
"Ah, I devoted my life to this stuff and look what's happened to me. I hazard to guess that my imposter covered the Unforgiveables?" droned Moody, still clearly bitter over it. Hermione nodded. "Well then," he said, getting up from the chair, "I think we should cover something I think they should teach in your first year. Spell deflection is as much an art as it is a skill. Some of us are just naturally bad at it... Some of us are naturally good at it... and some of us have natural defenses against it."  
  
Harry sat slumped in his chair while an eye or two turned to look at him. "Ah, Mr. Potter... Come, stand here," Moody said, pointing right in front of his desk. "Hold your wand out and don't move. I'm one hundred percent sure what to do will come to you." Harry got lazily out of his chair and stood up where Moody had been pointing at.  
  
"Rictusempra!" shouted Moody lazily, as if to weaken the spell, pointing his wand at Harry. And Moody was right, Harry didn't think and he shouted back --  
  
"Declino!" with his skin glowing perfect white. A white light shot out of Harry's wand and hit the Imperius Curse dead on. The two spells fizzled in mid air.  
  
"Excellent! The most basic form of spell deflection is simply the Deflector Charm. It requires very quick reflexes, mind you, and does not normally work, even with the mark of ancients."  
  
Moody talked and talked about various methods of deflecting spells but Harry's mind continued to wander towards Sirius. He wondered if he would eventually slip off into another vision and wake up with his scar hurting and bleeding again. He hoped not because once a year is enough. Is this the spell that can deflect Avada Kedavra with the mark?  
  
"No," said Moody. He must have been answering someone's question. "Deflector Charms are very weak and cannot dream of deflecting one of the Unforgiveables even with something as powerful as the mark of ancients." Harry's question was answered just as the bell rang. He sprang up and walked out the door.  
  
"That was a very useless class," he said to Hermione.  
  
"Useless as it was, Harry," said Moody from behind him, "it's just an introduction. Professor Dumbledore asked me to introduce ways to defend oneself, especially you, in the heat of a battle."  
  
Whatever Moody had to say, Harry didn't expect that. What was Dumbledore thinking? He had been successful so far in defending himself...  
  
Divination was the usual bore except for Professor Trelawney's weekly Harry prediction.  
  
"The return of ones you love will be brief," she said eerily to him as he climbed up the ladder into her smoke-filled room. Sirius? Would Sirius' return be brief? Harry had a wrenching feeling that Sirius would be killed on their way out... or that he would be killed on his way in.  
  
Divination passed by as a blur of Trelawney speaking. Harry didn't catch a word, his mind was on Sirius.  
  
Dinner came that evening. Ron and Hermione seemed to be continuing their speechlessness to Harry.  
  
"So, did you hear what Professor Trelawney said to me on my way in, Ron?" said Harry, trying to initiate conversation.  
  
Ron didn't reply, he continued to chew on his food then take a sip from his goblet. Hermione gave Harry a short glance as she stuffed a huge forkful of chicken into her mouth. It was mostly hopeless, he thought. Michelle tried to act innocent, eating her food quietly trying not to look out of her usual self but she wasn't fooling anybody -- something was on her mind as well.  
  
"She said someone I love will make a brief return," said Harry, not willing to give up so easily. Hermione dropped her fork nervously as she went to put it back up to her mouth. Michelle dropped her fork too.  
  
"You don't honestly think you're going to get in and out of Azkaban with your soul still attached to your body, do you?" she said to the startlement of both Ron and Hermione.  
  
"Yes," said Harry defiantly. He stuffed a piece of chicken in his mouth too big for him to chew properly.  
  
"What about us?" said Hermione.  
  
"What about you?" said Michelle, giving her an eye like a worried parent.  
  
"You don't think we'd let Harry go alone, do you?" Harry accidently swallowed a piece too big and started to choke on it. What did Hermione just say?  
  
"Harry!" said Michelle, slamming him hard on the back.  
  
He continued to choke on the piece holding his throat with both hands for several seconds. He stood up from the table, coughing madly and trying to force the piece either down or back up. He couldn't breathe any longer. The mark grew a blinding white but what good was it going to do in as simple a matter as choking on food? Michelle let go of his back and he fell backwards, starting to turn blue in the face.  
  
"SOMEONE HELP!" screamed Hermione frantically.  
  
It took a moment for people at the surrounding tables to realize what was going on. A girl from the Ravenclaw table dashed out of the Great Hall. Hermione looked just as clueless as Ron. The two of them stood up gaping at Harry. Harry felt ready to pass out from lack of air. No one did or said anything for several frightening seconds and Harry's face turned a deeper and deeper blue. His vision started to blur itself when,  
  
"Out of the way!" said Madam Pomfrey hurriedly, running back with the Ravenclaw girl. She pulled on Harry's shoulder to sit him upright, put her hand on his back, held out her wand and said, "Disintigrus!" She let go of his back and he fell hard onto the floor but was no longer choking. He let out a few mad gasps for air and the color returned to his face before settling to just heavy breathing. Both Ron and Hermione jumped up right over the table.  
  
"Harry! Are you okay?" said Hermione, leaning in front of him. Harry propped himself up with his hands behind him.  
  
"I'm fine," Harry croaked, catching his breath.  
  
Madam Pomfrey exited the Great Hall, leaving Harry, slightly shaken, to ask something.  
  
"What'd you say?" he asked Hermione through heavy breath.  
  
"I said 'are you okay'!" she repeated. He looked up at her.  
  
"No, when Michelle said 'What about you'?"  
  
"You're not going to Azkaban alone," she said sternly. "Ron and I decided we're going with you." Harry sat up and got back into his seat. Hermione and Ron jumped back over the table onto their side.  
  
"No you're not," said Harry. He started to feel sudden sadness again. He really needed to know what Sirius would have to tell him. "You two have families. My parents are dead, my godfather is in Azkaban and I need to talk to him. You have a family to worry over you."  
  
"What about me?" said Michelle. She tried not to sound insulted but it was clear. What about her? Harry couldn't help feeling something odd around her lately.  
  
"You're not going with me," said Harry, hastily changing the subject.  
  
"No changing his mind," said Hermione. Harry finished up his dinner, not taking part in Ron's, Michelle's and Hermione's conversation about how Harry could possibly get Sirius out of Azkaban. Michelle was very nervous about them attempting it.  
  
As everyone left the Great Hall, Harry continued to sit there, thinking. He didn't notice Professor Dumbledore had been sitting in his chair in back of the great hall, hands folded neatly in front of him, keeping a watchful eye on Harry. Harry, arms folded, hands dangling off the edge, stared sulkily at the empty seats of Ron and Hermione. He breathed slow and steady and thought about Hermione and Ron going with him to Azkaban. After about ten minutes --  
  
"Everyone left, you know," Dumbledore called to Harry calmly, who broke quickly out of his gaze, shook his head and looked at Dumbledore. Dumbledore got up and walked slowly over to Harry. "Something has been bothering you for a long time," he said as he took a seat opposite him.  
  
"You can answer that," said Harry, going back to his sulky position. Dumbledore paused for a few minutes.  
  
"What were you, Ron, Hermione and Michelle talking about?" he asked, trying to catch Harry's stare. There was no way Harry would spill the beans on him trying to get Sirius back. If Dumbledore knew, there was no telling what he would do to prevent him.  
  
Harry wanted to talk to Sirius more than Dumbledore right now and there was only one way to make that happen. Harry kept his mouth shut. A small voice told him to tell Dumbledore what he's been hiding, but another voice said not to. The second voice spoke louder and it was this one that Harry had been listening to lately.  
  
"Nothing," he lied. "Nothing very interesting." Dumbledore peered through his half-moon spectacles with the utmost notice of Harry having just lied.  
  
"Sleep well, Harry," said Dumbledore smiling, as he got up and stepped out of the Great Hall. Harry spent another few moments before getting up as well and walked back to his four-post bed.  
  
He didn't get in bed, though. The window on Harry's side was cut out of the wall and lay inside it, leaving a small ledge to place things on. The ledge was about three feet thick and about two feet up from the ground. The window rose from the ledge up to the ceiling. Harry often left Hedwig's cage on it... but she had been missing for many weeks now... Her cage now rested at the foot of Harry's bed.  
  
Harry sat on this ledge and stared through the open window, looking out into the night sky as he leaned against the wall, holding his legs up with both arms. A cool, welcome breeze blew in his face, rustling his untidy hair. It was peace and quiet he wished that he could have more often.  
  
The absence of Hedwig was like Harry missing a small part of himself. Little things, such as stroking Hedwig's soft feathers began to mean a lot. Harry began to realize he was losing control and Voldemort was starting to overtake him; the voice in his head almost had him killing Malfoy. He had to get Sirius back and he had to get rid of the mark. He had to find out how Voldemort could control him and he had to get his life back to normal.  
  
Just then something, came into view in the far distance of the night. It was very big but the shape could not be made out. It soared through the air, criss crossing drunkily towards Harry. The object jerked up and down as it made its way towards him. It stopped at one point, sinking a few feet, but began to rise in the air again as a big breeze came billowing through the window.  
  
Harry stared intently as the object came closer and closer. He could begin make parts of it out. Two arms ran out each side of it's slender body, looking awfully long and thin. The head was fluffy and two beady eyes stared back at him. It looked white, it looked like an owl... Hedwig!  
  
Hedwig fell hard onto Harry's lap, looking sickly and tired. Her feathers were a mess and she couldn't stand up on her own two feet. Harry, eyes filled with tears of joy, picked her up, walked over to his trunk, pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and made a surprise visit with Hedwig to the kitchen to grab some food for her. Harry let her sit on the ledge that night and stared at her as he lay in bed, falling asleep. 


	10. Fiery Quidditch

Chapter 10: FIREY QUIDDITCH  
  
  
Tuesday evening rolled around and Madam Hooch collected everyone that wanted to play on Gryffindor's Quidditch team. Harry was stunned to find out that Madam Hooch and a few other Gryffindors had appointed him,  
  
"Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor."  
  
"What?" said Harry, nervously. "Me? No." Michelle giggled. She had come to watch their practice.  
  
"It's final. You did so well in Fire Quidditch McGonagall and I decided it would be best." Harry had figured that game would come to bother him sooner or later. A fifth year Harry recognized at once and a sixth year that he didn't walked over.  
  
"The two replacement Beaters are Mr. Weasley and Kylie Randal, both of which I assure you are as good if not better than Fred and George Weasley."  
  
Harry saw Kylie giggle at their names. Ron a new Beater? Ron came running up with Hermione behind him. This was a pleasant surprise. Harry remembered how Ron wanted to be Quidditch Captain. During their first meet with the Mirror of Erised, Ron told Harry he was holding the Quidditch Cup and had been made captain of Gryffindor's team. Harry's stomach fell slightly. Was there any way he could convince them to make Ron the team captain?  
  
"The new Keeper is Craig Stone. You, unfortunately, only have this evening to practice and tomorrow afternoon as the first game of the season is Thursday evening before dinner. Slytherin has already practiced this morning and will go again tomorrow morning. It will most likely be raining so be sure you're up to scratch on flying well in bad weather!" She stepped out.  
  
"Well?" said Angelina Johnson, one of the Chasers.  
  
Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet were the other two. All three were in their seventh years. Harry and Ron were the youngest by far, everyone else was a sixth or seventh year. It seemed like the entire time Kylie would be giving Ron funny looks. She seemed to like him, but Ron tried to distance himself from her.  
  
"Umm," said Harry, thinking hard and fast, "yeah. So, Madam Hooch left the balls out so I guess we can just play a fake game. Alicia, you two try to get the ball through the far hoops. Katie, you try to get it through the near ones. Angelina, just help whoever had the Quaffle last. Ron and Kylie, try to hit the Quaffle with the Bludgers to make the Chasers' jobs harder."  
  
The last bit tumbled out of Harry's mouth before he knew what he was saying but it worked and harder, they did get.  
  
Ron had become quite good at knocking the Quaffle away if someone tried to pass it too far. He only hit it five times out of around twenty, but Kylie only managed to do it once. Every five minutes Harry would shout "Got it," and toss the Golden Snitch away. He had taken to using dives straight down as a good way to gain speed and then pull up rapidly, repeating the process. One time Harry found himself crossing the entire field in two seconds. He narrowly avoided a collision with a Bludger head on but Kylie hit it out of his way and flew out before the two of them collided instead.  
  
Angelina, Katie and Alicia had taken to leapfrogging each other from one side of the field to the other, passing the Quaffle to whoever was out in front. At one point Angelina and Katie were doing figure eights across the field as Alicia was zig-zagging in and out of them, exchanging the Quaffle randomly to someone when they all came in contact. This was a very good idea of Ron's, Harry thought, because the Quaffle changed hands very rapidly and was sure to confuse anyone.  
  
Another brilliant idea of Ron's was for someone to grab onto Harry as he did his diving to gain speed and let go. They would have to stop moving on their broom to keep the speed. Luckily, they were moving so fast the push from surrounding air kept them on a mostly straight line. The throws resulted in extremely high speed Quaffles which knocked Craig through the hoops on more than one occassion. Harry found it hard to maneuver his Firebolt at such high speeds but he managed to do it by taking very long turns. Besides, he was moving so fast, going out of the field by about fifty feet was no big deal. These new tactics were sure to turn a few heads. Harry had never seen a Quidditch player move as fast as he could, not even at the Quidditch World Cup, which surprised him a great deal, indeed...  
  
Ron and Kylie tried to grabbing onto Harry as well to gain speed. The result of one such attempt was a Bludger knocking down one of the hoops. It was then they decided their practice should stop and they needed to alert Madam Hooch.  
  
She didn't ask how they succeeded in snapping the hoop's stand in two pieces. She just repaired it and wished them all good luck. Harry and Ron left the Quidditch field, hardly able to contain their glee at the faces of Slytherin, who they would be playing first... again.  
  
Harry started to think of a few things he could say to Madam Hooch and secretly to the rest of them to make Ron team captain, each more feeble than the last. Harry owed it to him, he never would have thought of those things.  
  
But Harry fell asleep that night still wearing a smile.  
  
The next morning Harry went down to breakfast talking with Ron about how they were going to win with Slytherin having no points at all. They were totally convinced with the Chaser and speed strategies coupled with Ron and Kylie's ability to knock the Quaffle with Bludgers.  
  
There was another song playing on a record player up at the teachers' desks.  
  
One voice was singing. "Fathers hands were lined with dirt from long days in the field..."  
  
"Hey, Harry," said Ron, "do you know this song too?"  
  
Instruments kicked in. "And mothers hands are serving meals in a cafe on Main Street with mouths to feed."  
  
Harry listened, trying to remember. "No," he said. "Doesn't sound familiar."  
  
"Just trying to keep clothing on our backs. And all I hear about... is how it's so bad, it's so bad-"  
  
"I wonder where Dumbledore gets these..." said Hermione, thinking deeply.  
  
"It's too bad, it's too bad, too late, so wrong, so long... It's too bad that we had no time to rewind, let's walk, let's talk..."  
  
"Nickelback, Too Bad," said Michelle, winking.  
  
"You left without saying goodbye, although I'm sure you tried. You call and ask from time to time... to make sure we're alive..."  
  
Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach again.   
  
"But you weren't there... right when I'm needing you the most! And now I dream about it... How it's so bad, it's so bad-" the instruments kicked up again.  
  
"So Harry," said Hermione. Harry was only half paying attention.  
  
"It's too bad, it's too bad, too late, so wrong, so long... It's too bad that we had no time to rewind, let's walk, let's talk..."  
  
"What have you come up with for the game tonight?"  
  
"Father's hands are lined with guilt for tearing us apart. Guess it turned out in the end... just look at where we are..."  
  
"We got some nice moves. Just wait, Hermione. Slytherin won't have a chance!" said Ron, not trying to contain himself.  
  
"Made it out, still got clothing on our backs and now I scream about it... How it's so bad, it's so bad-"  
  
"See, we grab onto Harry and he does this diving thing..." he said excitedly. "I split one of the hoops in two pieces, hitting a Bludger going so fast."  
  
"It's too bad, it's too bad, too late, so wrong, so long... It's too bad that we had no time to rewind, let's walk, let's talk..."  
  
"Harry?" said Ron, noticing Harry was dazing out.  
  
"Oh," said Harry, snapping out of it, "yeah, it's wicked. We have another practice this afternoon. Want to come watch?"  
  
"No," she said firmly, "I'm going to be studying for my O.W.L.s." That statement put both Harry and Ron into bitter moods. They had not done a single bit of studying for it. "I don't know how you two plan on getting any decent number of O.W.L.s." She put her goblet up to her mouth and started drinking.  
  
"But Hermione, we still have another week!" said Ron. Hermione spit out her drink all over Ron.  
  
"Another week! Another week and you'll only have a few months to cover everything from our first four years!" Ron glared at her. "Sorry..." she said innocently. Hermione handed him a bunch of napkins.  
  
"You're coming to the game at least, right?" said Harry.  
  
"Yes," she replied quickly, not catching Harry's eye.  
  
The day passed without anything out of the ordinary occuring. Harry was most grateful. Everyone jetted out of Divination and onto the Quidditch field. Harry and Ron made their way to the locker room and the rest of the team was already waiting for them.  
  
"Ok, team. We're going to tear the pants off Slytherin and hang them over the Great Hall tomorrow morning, right?"  
  
"Right!" the others replied forcefully.  
  
"Yeah, so, okay." Harry motioned for them to get changed. He had to get Ron to take over for him quick, running a team was just not his thing.  
  
He got changed as quick as he could and headed out to where the players are supposed to wait before a game. He got there first... followed by Angelina... Craig... Katie... Alicia and Kylie following Ron and giggling.  
  
"Nervous, Ron?" asked Harry, absolutely beaming.  
  
"A little."  
  
"You'll do fine. Your brothers were great."  
  
"Let's just hope I don't get hit by a Bludger, okay?"  
  
Madam Hooch blew her whistle. They mounted their brooms and charged out of the small waiting area.  
  
"Welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season!" shouted Lee Jordan, the usual commentator. "This afternoon's game is Slytherin versus Gryffindor!" Both teams formed a circle around the center of the field.  
  
Madam Hooch flew up to the center of them.  
  
"Let's keep this clean and without many injuries, shall we?" She flew back down to the ground, kicked open the trunk...  
  
"The Bludgers are up," shouted Lee, "the Golden Snitch is out, Madam Hooch throws up the Quaffle! The game begins!"  
  
"Showtime, Ron!" shouted Harry happily. "Rain's heavy, watch it..." It had been raining since during their practice this afternoon. Ron had a close call involving a Bludger and a sudden gust of wind. The entire team came out of practice looking like they had gone for a swim in the lake, soaked to the skin and it didn't look like their appearance would be any different after this game.  
  
"Gryffindor Chaser Johnson has the Quaffle! Oh, take a look at that nice formation she's doing with Spinnet and Bell! Bell... Spinnet... Bell... Johnson... Bell... Spinnet, no wait Johnson! Haven't seen the Quaffle get passed so fast since the Quidditch World Cup!" The Quaffle was getting passed back and forth so fast Lee had a hard time seeing who actually had it. "Oh who cares anymore! Down the left, dodge a Bludger, Spinnet passes to Johnson, SCORE! Ten to zero, Gryffindor!"  
  
Harry floated several feet above the rest of the players, squinting through his glasses, trying to catch a glimpse of the Snitch. He had bewitched his glasses to make the rain drops bounce off. Without it, it would be impossible. The rain came down so heavy it felt almost like hail.  
  
"Better have some nice moves there, Potter," sniggered Malfoy coming up behind him.  
  
"Just you wait and see," Harry sniggered back.  
  
"Slytherin Chaser grabs the Quaffle... passes to - HA! Very nicely aimed Bludger by Gryffindor Beater Ron Weasley! Gryffindor back in possession. There they go again passing the Quaffle. Johnson... Bell... Spinnet... Bell... Johnson... Spinnet... Johnson... Bell... Bell grabs on to Potter's broom. Potter rises up in the air, dives straight down! Oh my, he's going fast! Rises up again... dives..."  
  
"All right there, Katie?" said Harry, smiling.  
  
"Yeah, just make sure I can get a clean shot."  
  
"Makes a huge circle around the field! Comes through the center... Bell throws... oh, my! Slytherin Keeper gets knocked through the hoop trying to defend! Is that a score? Yes! Madam Hooch says it's a score! Twenty-zero, Gryffind - oh look at Slytherin Seeker Malfoy go! Has he seen the Snitch?"  
  
"Oh no you don't, Draco," said Harry threateningly as he shot at Malfoy's broom, grabbing him by the arm and shooting off with him over the stands. Several on-lookers ducked so as to not get hit by the blur that was Harry and Malfoy screaming overhead.  
  
"Interesting style of play by Harry Potter... Slytherin in possession, passes the Quaffle... and again... and oh, disaster! Gryffindor Beater Weasley hits a Bludger into the Quaffle sending it into their own hoops! Twenty to ten, Gryffindor!" A roar of chuckling exploded from the Slytherin crowd.  
  
"THANKS, WEASLEY!" shouted Malfoy from across the field. Harry flew over to Ron.  
  
"Don't worry, Ron. Draco isn't getting that Snitch for as long as I live," said Harry.  
  
"Don't say that!" said Ron, sounding worried.  
  
"Oh... sorry..." Out of the corner of his eye, something golden made Harry squint.  
  
"Gryffindor Seeker Harry Potter sets off at blinding speed! He has seen the Snitch! Wow, never seen anyone go that fast!" Harry did as he had in his practice to gain speed, diving and rising and making wide turns around the field, chasing the Snitch. One more dive... and he lost the Snitch.  
  
Maybe he could make it unnoticeable and make his skin glitter to see if it would let him find it easier? Harry shot up hundreds of feet in the air and plummeted down to the ground, pulling the handle of his broom up as hard as he could and ignoring the gasps from the crowd.  
  
Michelle had been talking to Hermione and Cho about Harry.  
  
"He's a damn good flier, isn't he?" said Michelle, trying her very best to keep an eye on him whizzing through the air. "Takes after dad... the best there was."  
  
"What's he doing?" asked Cho.  
  
"Don't know... he's got his mind on something."  
  
"Oh God! Look what he's doing!" shouted Hermione with a hand over her mouth.  
  
Harry stood up on his broom, one foot on the handle, the other on the tail. The Snitch seemed to gain unnatural speed and sped around the field, mocking him.  
  
"Just hope he doesn't hit something!" Michelle shouted, then thundered out to Harry, "HARRY BE CAREFUL!"  
  
Harry tried to make his skin glitter again... but to no effect. It went golden for a split second and fizzled as if the rain was washing it away. Harry felt his stomach fall faster than he had just dived. Is the mark... disappearing?  
  
"Score for Slytherin! Twenty to thirty!" In his absence of attention, Slytherin had scored two more times. He heard someone shout at him but the only word he got is "Crash!"  
  
"The Snitch is going awfully fast," said Hermione in a shaky voice. Michelle and Hermione stood up, ignoring the fact that they stepped out from under their umbrella, the hard rain starting to soak them as well.  
  
As Harry was flying around, a Bludger came in close contact with him. He jumped up on his Firebolt as the Bludger soared underneath his feet. He ignored it, but it was a bit too close of a call to not try to find a way to get closer the Snitch that was just out of reach of his hand. The Snitch took a dive for the ground and Harry followed. He plummetted about fifty feet down before the Snitch turned to fly straight up again. Another Bludger whizzed past his head and he had to grab onto the front handle and maneuver his way through Katie and Alicia. Strong gusts of wind and heavy rain pelting him made it hard to fly straight. His soaked clothing added extra weight further increasing the difficulty, feeling like someone had dumped buckets of water on him. Several hundred feet in the air, it dived down again, with Harry wasting no time following it.  
  
"Fifty to fifty, tie game!" shouted Lee from the stands.  
  
The Snitch turned and soared towards the ground. Harry knelt down on his Firebolt, hands clutching the handle tight. The Snitch bounced off the ground and turned upwards again. To not hit the ground, Harry pulled on the handle and thrust all his weight back, practically sending himself into a Backward Bowling Ball. A brown blur whizzed by his ear and shot off behind him. Harry was going at speeds that had to rival Fire Quidditch Quaffles. He tried to make his skin glitter again... but still it did nothing more than give off a small sparkle and fade.  
  
He had to make a move for the Snitch now or continue to risk being hit by Bludgers. He pulled his back foot closer to the middle of his broom, grabbed the front end with his outstretched arm, closed his eyes and kicked off...  
  
Harry didn't think this such a good idea after he actually did it. He cartwheeled in the air, gripping the front of his Firebolt with all his might so as to not ever let go. As soon as Harry felt something cold in his palm after flipping several times, he closed his hand tight to great cheering of the crowd.  
  
"Harry Potter catches the Snitch! And an amazing catch if I do say so myself!" Harry opened his eyes, grabbed onto his broom with both hands, still clutching the Snitch and climbed back on. The rest of the Gryffindor team bounced into him and grabbed whatever part someone else wasn't holding onto. "Gryffindor wins!"  
  
"Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor!"  
  
The Gryffindor crowd broke into chanting. Harry turned his attention, grinning, towards Malfoy, who was stomping his feet in the muddy ground. Harry landed onto the squisy ground; his shoes immediately became covered in mud as he landed a little harder than he intended, too happy over his victory.  
  
Dinner that evening was most enjoyable.  
  
"Where did you learn that?" asked Michelle, stuffing her face with a meat loaf peppered with pixie dust. Harry put down his cup to speak.  
  
"Don't know. Just needed some way to get closer. Stupid thing... seemed to be going faster than usual." He took another sip of his orange juice. Hermione was enjoying herself.  
  
"Yeah, it did, didn't it?" she said inquisitively. "You had a close call with some Bludgers, too." Harry chuckled, dribbling juice and trying to wipe it away with the nearest napkin.  
  
"After playing with fireballs and throwable high speed balls, er, this is very easy..." Cho giggled.  
  
"You were great up there, Harry," she said, blushing.  
  
"Th-thanks." Harry felt himself turn scarlet and some butterflies had found their way in his stomach. He would much rather have a touching moment with Cho alone. Trying to hide his embarassment, Harry licked his fingers and grabbed another few shrimp to stick in his plate.  
  
Ron put his fork full of spaghetti up to his mouth and looked ready to put it in, but he changed his mind, took a deep breath and put the fork down. "You still plan on going to Azkaban?" he said, sighing.  
  
"Yes," said Harry shortly, stuffing his own face with spaghetti. The fact that he couldn't get the mark to glitter crossed his mind and he couldn't help but mention it. "I tried to use the mark three times..." he said casually, as if nothing was the matter. "It just glittered for a second then faded..."  
  
Ron, Hermione and Michelle stopped chewing and looked up at him.  
  
"Does that bother you just as much as it bothers me?" he said.  
  
"Yes," said Hermione and Michelle at once, in complete agreement. Ron just kind've nodded weakly.  
  
"You're still going to go to Azkaban with it failing?" said Hermione.  
  
"Do you think it's really disappearing?" said Harry. He didn't feel as worried as he thought he should be. At least if the mark disappeared, it would mean Voldemort could no longer try to control him...  
  
"It is known to just disappear suddenly. If it comes back... really can't say..." said Michelle.  
  
"I'm not worried," said Harry confidently. "If it goes away, Voldemort can't use it to control me." He ate a scallop in one bite. "And that's a good thing."  
  
"You make it sound like it's so simple!" said Ron. Harry could see the three of them, including Cho, looking a bit more than slightly worried. He didn't have any reasons to be, so why should they?  
  
"Because it is that simple," he said in a comforting voice fully confident. He full believed he was right. And he was... wasn't he? Harry sat up as straight as he could and continued to eat, not bothered a tiny bit by the mark making it's grand exit. As far as he was concerned, good riddance.  
  
The five of them continued to talk, but the conversation had stayed on topic about the Quidditch game. Harry's confidence seemed to radiate. It did a lot of good, for they had mostly forgotten about the worry of the mark, though Harry couldn't see how that was at all possible. Perhaps they just didn't want to think about it? Harry was in good spirits and he had good reason to be. Tomorrow after dinner he would sneak out with some Polyjuice Potion he had been working on and a rat he would transfigure into a great black dog. He had no idea what the Polyjuice Potion would be used for, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. He kept hairs from Ron, Hermione and Michelle in a small pouch with labels just in case he needed to use them.  
  
This was all assuming, of course, that he would transfigure the rat properly without the mark. That was the only worry on his mind all through the next day. Before leaving though, he would find out where Azkaban is from maps in the Restricted Section of the library by means of his Invisibility Cloak and Disapparate there. And he would do all of this without the mark.  
  
There seemed to be one small glitch. Without the mark, he couldn't Disapparate... or at least properly. 


	11. Sirius

Chapter 11: SIRIUS  
  
  
Friday went well. All of the seventh years were in the Great Hall being told about their N.E.W.T.s which was perfect for Harry to sneak about the school and go mostly unnoticed. The rat he would pick up on the way. He was sure there would be some rats sneaking around outside Azkaban... Ron and Hermione were talking an awful lot about it, dropping him hints of what it's like, he thought.  
  
Harry snuck into the Restricted Section with ease that night when everyone left the commons. He was becoming very adept at doing it as he had done it many, many times before. Azkaban was a castle on an island somewhere. He didn't really need to know where because the book gave Apparating directions.  
  
Apparate first to Hogsmeade.  
Take Hogsmeade to Bristol.  
Take Bristol to the island of Azkaban.  
DO NOT APPARATE DIRECTLY INSIDE AZKABAN!  
  
Harry walked back to the Fat Lady, took off his cloak, gave the password ("Fire Quidditch") and stepped inside the portrait hole to see Ron and Hermione -- staring at him? Harry didn't know what to say, so he just said,  
  
"What?" short of breath.  
  
"We're going with you," said Ron, arms folded, looking quite stubborn. "The two of us decided since the first time you mentioned it. We aren't letting you go alone, you're nuts!" Harry brushed past them.  
  
"No you're not. What if something happens to you?"  
  
"What if something happens to YOU? What if the mark disappears? Go on, try it, see if it glitters." Harry turned around to look at Ron. He made his skin glitter... then glow perfect white...  
  
"I don't get it," said Harry, utterly confused, "but it's great because I'll be needing it." He grabbed a small vial holding Polyjuice Potion and some cheese to catch a rat with. "Fine. If you're going, grab whatever you want to take, put it in this box and I'll cover it with the Invisibility Cloak."  
  
"You have any idea how we're going to do this?"  
  
"Worked it out last night. Just hope the Dementors are fooled."  
  
"I think we should be ready to make them move around so we don't get seen if we don't have to be. I, for one, don't want them near me."  
  
"Right," said Harry. "Take the box." He watched as Hermione stuffed all three of their wands inside it, a Sneakoscope (lights up and spins when someone nearby isn't being truthful), Neville's Remembrall (smoke turns red when you forgot something), a small book entitled Demented Dementors and what looked like a miniature version of Harry's Firebolt. Surely she hadn't shrunk the real thing!  
  
"Hermione..."  
  
"Yes. Trust me." She took the box over to the girl's dormitory (all the girls were fast asleep) and opened her trunk. She stuffed what Harry could swear was a grenade into the box... "Ron?"  
  
"Oh, right. Here." Ron handed Hermione a small box that looked like something Fred and George had made for them.  
  
"You two really prepared didn't you..." said Harry, quite amazed and looking at the pile of stuff in the box.  
  
"There's - no - way - you could to do it alone," said Hermione.  
  
"All right then," said Ron, looking prepared. "Shall we?"  
  
"Right," said Harry, feeling some anxiety but confident. He grabbed both their hands. Hermione held the box with the cloak on top of it. His skin lit up the girl's dormitory as if it was day and then they were in Hogsmeade...  
  
...then Bristol...  
  
...then stared at a looming, dark castle overlooking an ocean. This was Azkaban. Their cloaks whipped madly in the strong winds. It was the dead of night and freezing cold. Harry grabbed his wand out of the box and floated the box just behind them.  
  
"Scared?" said Harry, feeling just the same.  
  
"Yep," said Ron just as Hermione said "Very," quickly. The three of them took a deep breath, gripped their cloaks closer to their freezing bodies and walked.  
  
"How do we get in?" asked Ron, looking at Hermione for the answer.  
  
"There's a dementor at each entrance. We could try to lure them away. There's at least one at every door and they fill up the corridors guarding prison cells. We have to be careful as to not attract attention when moving one."  
  
"We can't just kill them all, can we? Go on Harry, try Clades Ultimus!" Harry shook his head.  
  
"Ron... what if I end up killing myself with it?"  
  
"Besides," started Hermione, "Dementors are immune to magic. It's all in this book I brought with us. We better get moving."  
  
"Don't you want to know my idea?" said Harry. "We aren't getting inside that easy."  
  
"Spill it."  
  
"I was going to find a rat and transfigure it into the same dog Sirius transforms into. We leave it in the cell, Sirius transforms and we get out as fast and as innocent as possible." Hermione looked impressed. Harry was happy with himself.  
  
"Not bad, Harry," she said. She suddenly changed her look. "Ok, but where'd you get it from..." He had gotten the idea from looking inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, a jar you could fill with thoughts. Harry had found out from it that Barty Crouch's son was taken from Azkaban by replacing him with his mother and a little bit of Polyjuice Potion.  
  
"I'll tell you when I explain it to Sirius. Now, come on, we need a rat." There were several scurrying away from the front entrance right towards them.  
  
"Gotcha!" said Ron as he snatched a rat by the tail and picked it up. Harry pointed his wand at it, closed his eyes to picture Sirius as a dog in his head. His wand gave a quick shake, his skin felt hot and he opened his eyes. Ron was holding the tail of a dog that would pass for Sirius any day. "Nice. Now let's just hope he doesn't bite..." said Ron as the dog scratched an ear and wagged it's tail.  
  
"I'm not walking past one," said Harry. "I'm sick of fainting. Better find a way to make them all move."  
  
"Couldn't Harry just summon a big Patronus and scare them all away?" said Ron, thinking wishfully.  
  
"That won't work," said Hermione in a that-was-a-dumb-question kind've voice. "There's too many of them and they are supposed to suck your soul out you if you try something that dumb. We have our work cut out for us because they're also supposed to do it if you try to break inside." Both Harry and Ron gave the same gulp of anxiety.  
  
"So how the bloody hell?" said Ron.  
  
"You're the chess expert, Ron. Full of strategies. You got any ideas?" Ron stood straight and tall trying to look important. Hermione had a point.  
  
"Well..." he said, the last letter echoing on his tongue, stroking his chin... "Run!" he whispered as a half shout. The dementor patrolling the doorway had stepped around the side of the castle. If they ran fast enough they could make it inside the front without being noticed.  
  
"Alohomora," said Harry, skin glowing perfect white, wand pointed at the lock. It opened without a grudge and they were inside.  
  
From floor to ceiling, wall to wall, it was all gray stone. Dementors could be seen at every corner, pacing slowly back and forth as if just waiting to suck out another soul. Torches lined the walls, sparsely lighting the very tall corridors. The smell of dried blood and burnt flesh came like a tidal wave over their noses. People must have just been left here to die and then burned to get rid of the corpse. They had no idea where Sirius could be and they would have to avoid coming close to dementors so Harry would not faint.  
  
"There's a lot of walls to hide behind," said Ron, pointing out a number of dementors. "They just pace back and forth." When the dementor at the far wall disappeared to the left corridor, the three of them dashed straight down the right corridor, checking each and every cell for a sign of Sirius or a black dog. Another dementor was pacing up and down this corridor but was heading away from them. They dashed behind a box conveniently placed in the middle of the corridor and waited for the dementor to get far enough past them and then sped off towards the opposite end.  
  
Harry could hear the faint voices of his parents screaming the night of their murder, but it wasn't enough to do much besides slightly cloud his hearing. The thought of getting Sirius back was probably one factor that blocked out a lot of it.  
  
"How are we ever going to find him?" said Hermione.  
  
"We haven't thought about that, have we..." said Harry sulkily.  
  
"Blimey, do you have the mark of ancients or don't you!" screeched Ron. "Foresight, Harry. Foresight!"  
  
Harry heard a faint voice in the back of his head. "It's him!"  
  
"Oh yeah!" Harry closed his eyes. His skin started to glow but he tried to keep it faint so as not to attract attention yet strong enough to use foresight. It worked. Sirius was sitting in a cell as the great black dog, curled up on the floor, digging his paws into the stone wall.  
  
"Where are you?" Harry said to himself. Sirius heard him, because he stood up on all fours, tongue sticking out.  
  
Another voice pierced the back of Harry's thoughts. "STAND ASIDE, GIRL!" He shook it off.  
  
"Come on, Harry, hurry, there's one about to turn around!" said Ron.  
  
"No time to explain, Sirius!" said Harry feeling his heartbeat rise considerably. "Where did they put you?"  
  
"Third corridor on the left from the middle, all the way down, one corridor up. Second cell on the right..." Harry tried to open his eyes but they wouldn't obey.  
  
"Not Harry!" The voices were coming back. Green light flashed through Harry's forcibly closed eyes but a hard knock to his cheek snapped him clean out of it. He opened his eyes to see a dementor staring him straight in the face. Ron and Hermione stood frozen, completely unable to speak.  
  
"RUN FOR IT!" he thundered. He grabbed the backs of Ron and Hermione's cloaks, his skin glowing smoky-quartz black and his legs seemed to move with a speed unheard of for humans. The rat-dog chased after them on instict. He held his hand out and knocked down several dementors. Back down the corridor to the left, up the middle three corridors down, straight to the end, take the nearest corridor farther inside... second cell on the right. Sirius was there, standing on his two feet, clinging the bars of his cell with both hands. The man on the left cell was awake and watching them.  
  
"Hey, you're that Harry Potter kid!"  
  
"No time to talk, old man," said Harry as they turned the corner. "Keep your mouth shut, will you?"  
  
"'Course! Gonna bring down the Dark Lord again, ya are!"  
  
"HUSH!" squealed Hermione. She stood behind Ron who stood behind Harry who was thinking of a way to open the stupid cell. Hermione was looking back and forth frantically at the oncoming dementors. "HURRY, HARRY. HURRY UP!"  
  
The dementors were closing in on them.  
  
"STAND BACK!" Harry thundered. He closed his eyes, clasped his hands and chanted, "INFERNUS GRANDIS INFLAMORA!" Just before he finished he opened his eyes and pointed both fingers at the metal bars. The surrounding air turned so hot Harry broke into a heavy sweat immediately. Red hot flames shot from his hands and covered two bars. A heinously large crack appeared underneath the two bars, so big Harry and Sirius nearly slipped into it. The bars became as liquid and fell to the floor in a silver puddle. Harry had burned the ceiling and floor stone blocks as well, leaving one humungous hole for Sirius to step out of.  
  
Harry shoved the rat-dog into Sirius' cell and repaired the broken mess with another small chant. Hermione pulled out Harry's miniaturized Firebolt and with one word, it grew larger than full size.  
  
"ON!" she ordered. All four of them sat on a part of the Firebolt. The dementors were so close Harry began to hear the voices again.  
  
"Me! No, please, take me instead!"  
  
Harry had an extremely hard time controlling the Firebolt as they whizzed around. He dodged dementor after dementor before screaming "EXPECTO PATRONUS!" A humungous, pearly white figure flew out the tip of his wand. It's very height challenged that of Hagrid. The dementors seemed to be more scared than Harry remembered himself ever being.  
  
One dementor continued to chase them on the Firebolt. He couldn't fly it fast enough.  
  
"Please... have mercy... have mercy..." Harry found himself taking unnecessary routes through the corridors of Azkaban. Down a long corridor, knocking right into a dementor... had to have torn it's head off... a black goo covered the tip of Harry's hands... turn another corridor... decapitated another dementor...  
  
"WATCH IT!" bellowed Sirius. A swarm of about ten dementors came up from behind them, riding on nothing but air and moving faster than them. Harry's vision faded in and out.  
  
"Not Harry! Please -- I'll do anything!"  
  
He couldn't control the Firebolt much longer. Harry twisted it around several corridors and dogded oncoming dementors. They flipped upside down to avoid the dementors beneath them and Harry felt his dinner itching to come up and out of his throat. The Firebolt kicked up with speed he didn't give it. His skin glowed the strongest black he ever saw it and they zoomed around corners, nearly banging into walls.  
  
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -"  
  
"Why's it going so fast?!" said Hermione. She didn't sound nearly as troubled as Harry felt.  
  
"I - I don't... know..." Harry struggled to get words out. He didn't want to let off that he was losing control. I can do it, he told himself, I can... The speed burst slowed down and they were coming back around to the middle corridor leading out of Azkaban.  
  
"The dementors will do it. Trust me!" Harry felt himself slipping out of consciousness. He struggled to keep the Firebolt on course... not that far now. Turn right... turn left... knock hard into a dementor... graze the head of another... close brush with one prisoner... snapped the arm of someone in half, blood spraying... Turn down a corridor, zig zag back and forth... this was the third corridor up on the left...  
  
"Don't give up, now!" The Firebolt gave another tremendous burst of speed. Hermione's grip on Harry's waist made it even harder to breath. Turn right again... the middle corridor... nearly there... Harry closed his eyes as they headed straight into the flailing arms of another prisoner, his face alight with joy to get killed... Harry tried to dodge but they hit. The black glow of the mark turned to a glitter then disappeared over several seconds.  
  
"HARRY!" screamed Hermione from behind him.  
  
"You're dead, Harry Potter."  
  
Harry turned too soon... The snapping of his Firebolt, the hard crunch against the stone wall, the cracking of bones, an agonizing but quick pain on his back and arms and the screams of Hermione, Ron and Sirius were the last things Harry remembered.  
  
"Such brave children..."  
  
"Such stupid children..."  
  
"Oh, shut up. Be greatful they're alive."  
  
"Alive, but take a look."  
  
"Don't touch! What are you, nuts?"  
  
"No, but Potter has a fractured arm, hand, broken ribs and a nearly fractured skull. Granger's got several broken bones as does Weasley... and Black, well..."  
  
"They will live, won't they?"  
  
"Yes, of course, no doubts."  
  
"Where did you find them?"  
  
"Inside Azkaban. Potter must have conjured one hell of a Patronus because it was standing over the three of them when we got there. Looked just like James', nearly gave me a heart attack at the resemblance. The dementors did not dare take a step near it. Albus looked ready to faint at the sight of it."  
  
"How'd you know where to go?"  
  
"Albus said he was waiting in the Great Hall for them for hours, never showed up. Went straight to Potter's owl, Hedwig. Followed her straight to them. Very smart, that owl."  
  
"Such brave little souls..."  
  
"Souls the dementors would love to have taken."  
  
"Ugh! You are so - UGH!"  
  
"Fine, fine. I admit it, not everyone would break into Azkaban, especially at the age of fifteen. Potter's idea, was it?"  
  
"Yes, indeed. He wanted to go alone. Weasley and Granger most likely wouldn't let him. Great friends he has."  
  
Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall stepped out through the door.  
  
Harry opened his eyes. He was some place he didn't recognize. This sure wasn't the hospital wing at Hogwarts. His glasses... those were his, but he was sure they would have been smashed to bits. Harry put them on and looked around the white room. It looked like a real hospital.  
  
On his left was Ron, who's body was glowing a shade of purple. On his right was Hermione who was also glowing a shade of purple. Both of them looked to be awake and turned their heads weakly in Harry's direction.  
  
Directly across from Harry was Sirius. Sirius glowed a faint white. He looked to still be asleep.  
  
"Ron?" he said coarsely and weakly, looking left, and then "Hermione?" looking right. He rubbed his eyes under the glasses and sat up. He, too, was glowing white but it was the mark, not a spell.  
  
The two of them smiled.  
  
"We made it," said Ron. Hermione sat up, looking a little stronger and smiled more brightly. Ron sat up, too.  
  
"What's with this glowing?" said Ron, looking at himself. The door opened up and in came Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"Ah... I see... that you are all awake." For some reason, the smiles on Harry, Ron and Hermione peeled off their faces, danced across the room and ran screaming out the door. They felt guilty for taking matters into their own hands... but no one else was going to...  
  
Dumbledore walked slowly, but not as to intimidate, towards Harry's bed and sat on the end. Harry gulped. What did Dumbledore have in mind? Was he going to really expell him this time? He snuck out of school, at night, broke into Azkaban and attempted to free Sirius, who was known throughout the wizarding world as a mass murderer.  
  
He broke school rules and wizard law to do it, an act that just might land him in Azakban. The screaming voices of Lily and James echoed in the back of his head like a broken record player. If it weren't for the bed under him, his insides would surely have fallen out.  
  
"A very foolish thing, you three have done," said Dumbledore.  
  
"Prof-"  
  
"I'm not finished yet. Foolish, it was, but very brave. The most important thing, of course, is that you survived it. The mark must have leaked off of Harry and prevented any injuries from taking anyone's life. I will answer any questions if you have them. I hazard to guess your first question is why are you glowing?" There was something Harry wanted to say.  
  
"Yes," said Ron and Hermione in unison.  
  
"It's a form of the mark of ancients. Much, much weaker but still strong enough to do it's job. Harry's Firebolt was found in pieces. You must have hit a wall on it going quite fast because the four of you had bone fractures so severe they were..." He didn't need to finish the sentence and all four of them made a face at the thought.  
  
"Your bones have healed fully in the three days it has been. Of course, you are all excused from classes for the rest of today and tomorrow." Hermione looked rather upset, two whole days!  
  
"So how's Sirius," said Harry, the words coming out of his mouth uncontrollably. That was all that was on his mind since he saw him. He forgot what he wanted to say earlier, though, as Dumbledore's smile also peeled right off his face and went out the door screaming madly.  
  
"I'm afraid his condition is a little worse. A dementor tried to kiss him and was partway through it, it seems, when a Patronus had stopped it. We found a humongous Patronus, in the shape of James' stag, which means that you, Harry, called it."  
  
"But we were all unconscious," said Hermione, just as confused as Harry and Ron.  
  
"You were knocked unconscious. The mark - was not. You rememeber... that once before the mark faded and you thought it was disappearing... when in turn, it was responsible for saving you." They still couldn't smile.  
  
Dumbledore took a copy of the Daily Prophet out from inside his cloak. Hermione and Ron got up and walked over to Harry's bed, taking a seat on either side.  
  
"Here," said Dumbledore, handing the paper to Harry, "I'm sure this will cheer you up."  
  
AZKABAN OUTING  
  
Three children, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and the famous Harry Potter, all at the age of fifteen, broke into Azkaban late at night two days ago, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondant.  
  
"Professor," started Harry bleakly, "this isn't going to cheer anyone up."  
  
"Continue reading."  
  
Potter and three friends seemed to have been trying to rescue a prisoner from Azakaban, one Sirius Black. Such an offense is one that has on more than on occassion gotten the offender a cell in Azkaban for themself.  
  
"Brave little souls," says Professor Sprout of Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry, of which Potter, Granger and Weasley all attend. "Could have been killed! They almost were!"  
  
Potter, Weasley, Black and Granger were reported unconscious with a humongous Patronus, far bigger than any noted, inside Azkaban with life-threatening injuries. Mr. Potter is, as widely known, blessed with the Mark of Ancients, a condition of glittering or glowing skin which may cause unusual magic phenomenon to occur. It is thought the mark prevented any deaths and the Patronus prevented any dementor from sucessfully parting Black with his own soul. Black is, as of now, unconscious in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries as are Potter, Weasley and Granger.  
  
"I do not know how they did it," says Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, "but a great deal of good did come out of it." There was, however, a great black dog that a prisoner in a cell next to Black says was transfigured. Several severed arms of prisoners were found in the halls of Azkaban.  
  
On a strange twist of fate, Sirius Black's name has been cleared through the efforts of the staff at Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic. It was thought, fourteen years ago, that Black was responsible for the death of about a dozen muggles and one Peter Pettigrew. Many heads turned, however, when these three attempted a death-defying rescue and the case was looked into.  
  
Harry felt his heart skip a few beats. A big smile crossed his face. Sirius, safe! He could hardly contain himself.   
  
It has come to the attention of the greater wizarding world that Pettigrew is alive and kicking as a servant to You-Know-Who. Potter, Weasley and Granger, as decided by Cornelius Fudge of the Ministry of Magic, will not be receiving any punishments as a result of their foolish, yet undoubtedly miraculous and brave actions.  
  
"Now all three of you are famous," said Dumbledore with a smile. It couldn't challenge Harry's. He was overcome with joy. Sirius, free at last!  
  
"But what's wrong with him?" said Harry, his smile dulling a little.  
  
"It would appear his soul has been removed, but only partially. He will become conscious within the next few days but it's also very likely he will slip in and out of consciousness at random. This condition, unfortunately... has never occured before and there is no known cure." Harry's smile vanished instantly.  
  
"Some say a cure exists but it is fully known to be dark magic that is highly dangerous... which is why, I presume, it is not known. I ask that you do NOT go looking for it. I will not mention this again and I pray that you do not mention it. It is very possible an attempt, even with the mark, can have highly disastrous consequences." His face looked very stern and severe. The sparkle behind the half-moon spectacles was absent.  
  
Lucky they had two days off because Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to spend them in bed. Harry's head was sore where he most likely had nearly fractured his skull and his fingers were hurting a lot. Ron and Hermione complained of similiar pains all over. Hermione had one stinging pain in her upper left arm where Dumbledore said a bone had been sticking out. He assured them all there were no lasting injuries and they wouldn't wake up during a thunderstorm to a sharp pain anywhere like Muggles usually complain of when they hurt a part of their body badly.  
  
Dumbledore's words echoed in the back of Harry's mind as he sat half conscious ready to go to sleep that night. Earlier, the three of them talked about what they could be missing in class. Hermione was most worried about two nights of O.W.L. study lost. Ron was keen on seeing the look on everyone's face, especially Malfoy's, when they got back to school. Harry thought he was a little nuts trying to prepare how to tell their story. Somehow he managed to include fire breathing dragons and them killing dementors by hand. Hermione convinced him not to tell it that way.  
  
Harry couldn't help feeling slightly sick but at least relieved that Sirius was no longer thought of as a threat. However, he would live as a half soulless zombie and that's no condition to have a godfather in...  
  
Tuesday afternoon rolled around and the four of them were awake. Sirius had shown no signs of behaving strangely and in fact he had been acting very normal all morning since he woke up.  
  
"Who's idea was it?" he asked.  
  
"Harry's," said Hermione and Ron together. Harry's cheek turned a deep pink matching perfectly with the color of the sheets on Hermione's bed. He remembered what he wanted to say. His face turned sulky and he felt his shoulders tense up.  
  
"I didn't do it for the fame. I never have. I just wanted you out." Harry felt another shock of tears from the mark. It was too strong to fight off, as it had been lately.   
  
"That mark has to be removed," said Sirius, sounding like a father. "Has to be done." Just hearing him speak calmed Harry down. Sirius bewitched a pair of gloves to give Harry a shoulder massage. "I'm torn between thanking the three of you or scolding you. Last time I was in Azkaban the dementors didn't affect me. I was innocent and I had nothing good to think of to begin with. But now... now I have a lot..."  
  
"What do we do?" said Hermione. "I read up on it. Needs at least fifteen very dedicated, very powerful wizards."  
  
"As I see it, we have fourteen. Dumbledore, Sprout, McGonagall, Binns, Snape, Trelawney, Vector, Hooch, Flitwick, Michelle, Arthur - your father Ron, a lot better at magic than you probably know - Cornelius, Figg and myself."  
  
"Figg? Figg who?"  
  
"Arabella Figg," he said, with a giant smile. "You know her better as Mrs. Figg, the nice old lady two streets from you."  
  
"Mrs. Figg? No, she's just an old lady who likes cats."  
  
"She's an old witch who likes cats," he said, still smiling. Harry could feel his mouth touching the floor.  
  
"I don't believe it," said Harry, not believing it.  
  
"Believe it. Arabella has quite the knack for magic."  
  
"Ok, if she is, but we have thirteen... not fourteen," said Harry. "Snape's missing. We think Voldemort has him."  
  
"And we know Voldemort is short of fifteen. How does he plan on doing it?" The four of them would be left wondering how later that day.  
  
"What about... the actual spell?" asked Hermione nervously. "I heard very, very few people actually know it."  
  
"There are two people I know that do," said Sirius, looking directly at Harry. "Want to tell me who I'm thinking of?" They all knew who without Harry actually answering but there was one question that stuck out like a sore thumb.  
  
"How?" asked Ron simply. Sirius looked at the three of them blankly, the very same expression they wore, before speaking.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Michelle came later that day to pick them up. Sirius asked if they could stop at Hogsmeade first. Harry would be Apparating them. 


	12. Emotion Escape

Chapter 12: EMOTION ESCAPE  
  
  
"First, I have to stop at Gringotts because I'm bloody broke and haven't had new clothing in far too long," said Sirius as they walked through the brick wall from the Leaky Cauldron. Harry walked next to him, Michelle on his other side with Ron and Hermione at the far ends.  
  
"So do I," said Harry.  
  
"Hermione?" said Michelle, "why don't you come with me to some book stores? Lookin' for one on, well... wanna come?"  
  
"Sure." The two of them trotted off. Sirius, Ron and Harry Disapparated off to Gringotts to grab some of Sirius' money then back to Hogsmeade. It was no surprise that Sirius walked out of many stores with several bags (which he floated behind him) of new clothes. Harry suggested he also get a haircut, trimming off the mop that lay on his head. The surprises started to come when the three of them split up.  
  
"Sirius, Ron..." started Harry, trying his very best to sound inconspicuous, "I got some private shopping to do. How about we meet back at the Three Broomsticks in, say," and he looked down at his broken watch (waterlogged during a trip into the lake in Hogwarts), "a half hour?"  
  
"Yeah," replied Sirius, "Ron, want to go get a drink there with me?"  
  
"Sure." They separated. As soon as Ron and Sirius were out of sight Harry made his way to Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ron had been using a school broom, a Cleansweep Seven. Harry felt he at least owed it to Ron to get him a Firebolt. There were "Broom Sale" stickers hanging in the air near a rack of Firebolts. It seemed to have dropped in price, the perfect opportunity to buy one for Ron.  
  
"E-excuse me," he said, as he pushed his way through the crowd amidst eyes gazing up at his forehead. He snatched a Firebolt off a nearby rack and brought it up to the witch sitting behind the cash register at the back of the store.  
  
"How much is this?" he asked the witch, holding up the Firebolt.  
  
"H-Harry Potter! N-no, be my guest. Take it free!" Harry laughed airily and nervously. As generous as the offer was...  
  
"How much or I'm leaving empty handed," he persisted.  
  
"Two-two hundred and thirty galleons..." Harry counted out the money as quickly as he could tossing it onto the counter and walked quickly out the store. He looked left to right to see if either Sirius or Ron could see him. He pulled out the Invisibility Cloak from underneath his own cloak, hid the broom under it and floated it close to himself.  
  
Ron came by just as he finished.  
  
"Oh, hey Harry." Harry tried hard not to let on. They walked towards the Three Broomsticks. "Sirius left after first drink. Said he had needed to make another stop at Gringott's. So, got what you needed?" When they sat down, Harry pushed the Firebolt under the table.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"D'you really think You-Know-Who has Snape?"  
  
"Yes, I bet - Voldemort - does." Harry decided he would get everyone to say the real name. If he had to say it... and see the owner, than it was the least everyone else could do. "I hope he uses Crucio on him..."  
  
"Harry!" blurted Ron.  
  
"You've only seen it." Ron's face fell. Harry painfully remembered the times Voldemort had used Crucio on him. Nothing ever came close to the pain, nothing came close the feeling of simply wanting to die, even nearly dieing itself. "Yeah, it hurts a lot." The two of them didn't talk for a few minutes. They simply drank from their goblets, leaning on the table in their own thought. The mere thought almost brought back the squirms of pain. Harry stared some place to the left of Ron and breathed steadily to calm himself.  
  
"So do you think we'll win the Quidditch Cup?!" said Ron. Harry heaved a sigh. "What? What's wrong?"  
  
"Since our first practice I wanted you to be team captain. I'm not good at it. Besides, you helped us win with those two tactics." He laughed shortly. "Those are going in text books."  
  
"No," said Ron, stubborness in his face. "They picked you."  
  
"Fine," said Harry. He took a sip from goblet (leaving only a drop left), leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across stomach. "Either you become captain or I quit." Ron couldn't believe his ears.  
  
"Y-you're serious, arent you?"  
  
"Yes." Ron was sure that if Harry was standing up, his hands would be on his hips. "You want it. I'll tell Madam Hooch before practice Thursday." Harry swallowed the last drop of his drink.  
  
"What I really need is a new broom." Harry lost control of the blood rising in his face. Wait until Thursday, he told himself... "The Cleansweep Sevens are pathetic." The Three Broomsticks door swung open and in walked Sirius followed by Michelle and Hermione.  
  
"Ah, so nice to get out to town," said Sirius as they all took a seat at the table with Ron and Harry.  
  
"You and me both," said Harry. "You know, sometimes I still can't believe it." He slouched back in his chair and rested his head on it's back, staring up at the ceiling. His mood changed quickly from one of embarassment to one of wonderment.  
  
"Believe what?" asked Hermione. She looked to be straining to know what he could be thinking of.  
  
"Uh oh," warned Ron.  
  
"Hush!"  
  
"All of it," said Harry. "Don't know which life I like better, though. Being safe with my aunt and uncle or being free but having to worry about Voldemort." Harry looked at the faces of Ron and Hermione just to see that they were still flinching at the name... and smiled. "Be glad you didn't see him come back." He went back to staring at the ceiling.  
  
"Oh, cheer up, Harry," said Michelle comfortingly. "Behind all of Vernon and Petunia's lies? They are no aunt and uncle of mine."  
  
"They didn't even buy you clothes," Ron reminded Harry. "Come on... you've done great stuff for everyone."  
  
"But what about me?" Ron looked stunned at Harry's reply. He tried to cheer Harry up, not get him more self-absorbed. "Fourteen years... and all I want is to talk to my parents."  
  
"You're much better off now, Harry," said Sirius putting an arm around his shoulder. He was the closest thing Harry ever had to a father... and in Harry's opinion, he was making a good substitute. He let out a sigh of relief and sat straight in his chair. "You're among friends. We'll get through it." A warm fuzzy feeling found it's way to Harry's heart. The last time he remembered it was his first encounter with the Mirror of Erised. It was the first sight of his parents in ten years but there was the cold reality that the hand touching his shoulder was merely an illusion. He wanted to speak to them for once in his life. They would have his answers. There has to be a way.  
  
"Touching life story you have," spoke an unwelcome voice. "Too bad it will come to an end before the year's up." All but Harry turned to see who it was.  
  
"Voldemort tried a few times," replied Harry. His skin was glowing perfect white and he turned to look upon the face of Thantanos Brev.  
  
"The Imperio Curse is bloody useful... as is a young one without a clue about the mark of ancients. Master will be pleased." Brev laughed a high cold laugh not unlike the one that Voldemort lets out.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Harry stood up kicking the chair back, fists clenched, fire in his eyes. He ignored all the eyes of horror, especially ones from nearby tables.  
  
"Dear me. Forgot to mention!" He bowed and continued, "Thantanos Brev, very big fan of Lord Voldemort! Just a shame that Dumbledore fool realized what I did, tricking you with a fake spell and making your mind hear what I wanted you to hear. No matter, really. Soon enough your mark will fail you completely and you'll be permanently under Imperius. If I might also mention, I did try to kill you during that Fire Quidditch game. Better watch yourselves. More deaths and disappearances are coming. You can be sure of that."  
  
Harry continued to stand where he was, absolutely fuming. Brev has been cause of his most of Harry's trouble so far. "Going to fight me?" snickered Brev.  
  
"Try it," said Harry coldly. It was something he should not have. Brev muttered something under his breath and Harry felt bliss, but the bliss, he knew, put him under someone's control. He closed his eyes, clasped his hands and started muttering under his own breath.  
  
"Parcere... m-meus vita..."  
  
A voice then spoke to him.  
  
"What're you doin' that for?"  
  
He continued, regardless. "Parcere meus..."  
  
"Really... what's the point?" Harry felt his arms give a sudden shake.  
  
"...anima. Ad-"  
  
"Want to consider stopping?"  
  
"-dere ultimus..."  
  
"Should stop, you should..."  
  
"...c-clad-d-des..."  
  
"Not nice, killing about one hundred people."  
  
"...ad parcere..."  
  
"Someone's going to get hurt!"  
  
"...nullus..."  
  
"HARRY!" Someone bumped into him but he ignored it.  
  
"...altera."  
  
The dark blue haze of Clades Ultimus began to spread from the middle of Harry, growing larger ever so slowly. The gust of wind blew on him only, like standing in a hurricane. The white, glowing blobs formed inside haze followed by the start of the deep rumble. The floor shook then suddenly became very hot but this time the burning sensation was deadened - at least for Harry. Chaotic voices filled the air but they sounded like a broken record player. The spell faltered. The voices stopped, the wind disappeared and the haze vanished into thin air taking the blobs with it. Harry returned to normal and Brev's eyes turned red with rage.  
  
"CRUCIO!" he bellowed, wand pointing at Harry.  
  
It shocked him again. A trillion needles piercing every available part of flesh, puncturing deep within, unrelenting. Harry squrimed and twirled over and over knocking over chairs and tables, tears of pain leaking from his tightly squinted eyes.  
  
"STOP IT!" screamed Hermione. "YOU'RE HURTING HIM!" She ran over to him in tears but he continued to writhe in pain, unable to control it. The other three were powerless. Brev had put them in a body bind.  
  
It all stopped suddenly and Brev could be heard laughing softly. Harry rolled over on his side reeling from the pain before bumping into someone's chair. The witch put down a hand for him to pick up. He was looking up at Arabella Figg. A certain resilience crept into him and he stood up. The questions he had for her he would have to keep for now. Brev continued his soft venomous laughter.  
  
"Such a remarkable thing, pain, isn't it? It makes even the bravest among us cower at the Lord's feet." Harry refused to look him in the eye. "I'm talking to you. Look at me now, Harry! Brave as you may be, you cower before the Dark Lord. They all do..."  
  
"I stood my ground," Harry said in his own soft and cold tone. His voice was shaking with anger. "I fought him... and I got away. Why don't you try to kill me and get it over with," said Harry through clenched teeth. His anger was nearly at a breaking point. Brev laughed at this.  
  
"My dear boy! I would never deprive my master of what he wants most!" Harry's very own skin nearly blinded him. Before another thought crossed his mind, before he had time to think of what it would do, he tried his own turn at the Cruciatus Curse.  
  
The pain must have been so powerful, so all consuming that it took just one long earsplitting, inhuman and bloody scream before the body of Brev lie motionless on the floor. Unconscious or dead, Harry really didn't care.  
  
"Is he... breathing?" said Hermione cautiously as she walked up to the body. Sirius followed her.  
  
"My god," said Sirius switching his head between Brev and Harry, "what did you use?"  
  
"Cruciatus." Sirius bent over Brev and checked for a pulse.  
  
"Still alive..."  
  
"Hey," said Hermione, "what's this?"  
  
"What's what?" said Ron. Harry bent down to look.  
  
"That," she said pointing at something on the back of Brev's neck. "It's a tattoo."  
  
"Of a Slytherin snake," said Harry. "Who cares. Just showing off."  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"Ennervate," said Harry pointing his wand at Brev, who's entire body gave one spasm. He sprang to his feet and stared horrified at Harry. "Go before I change my mind. I ought to kill you where you stand."  
  
"B-"  
  
"Go!" Brev walked hurriedly out the door. Harry plopped himself heavily onto his chair.  
  
"That was quite noble, Harry," piped up Mrs. Figg.  
  
"Noble or stupid? I need a long vacation..."  
  
Next morning was quiet enough. Dumbledore allowed Sirius and Michelle to sit with Harry at the Gryffindor table to the great displeasure of other students. Many people apparently could not shake off the falsity that Sirius was in fact not a murderer. Harry himself felt both joy and tension. Joy at the fact that he now had two people to call family but tension due to the scared faces on many of the surrounding people. Neville, for one, would not sit still.  
  
Dean and Seamus seemed to take a liking to Sirius. Many boos came from the Slytherin table all morning but eventually stopped when Sirius threatened to turn Malfoy into a bouncing ferret.  
  
Sirius was to walk around Hogwarts as the great black dog so as to not attract unneeded attention... Dumbledore's idea. No one besides close friends of Harry and Sirius knew he was an Animagus anyway.  
  
Paladism was Harry's first class that Wednesday. The previous two nights' events were fresh out of his mind due to an excellent night's sleep and very fortunate so. Professor Dumbledore had a very grueling lesson planned that morning.  
  
"Everyone please stand up, wands out."  
  
"What d'you think..." Ron whispered to Harry.  
  
"Shh!" he replied.  
  
"We will be practicing spell deflection. I will send a curse to Miss Granger and Miss. Parkinson, who will then pass it on to Mr. Weasley and Mr. Goyle, who will pass it on to Mr. Potter and Mr. Crabbe and so on and so forth.  
  
"The ability to deflect spells, starting with simple ones, is an important skill as I will demonstrate. On the count of three, I want everyone to attempt to curse me."  
  
Malfoy looked absolutely delighted at the idea.  
  
"Not a single one will get through, I guaruntee. Now, on the count of three." Everyone prepared their wands but Dumbledore stood with his wand down. "One... two... three!"  
  
He raised his wand immediately, holding it backwards like a knife, tip pointing outwards, amongst the yells of every curse Harry knew. Dumbledore muttered something and an arc of white lightning shot out of the tip of the wand and outwards to the palm of his free hand, both of which he held shoulder height and length. A small movement of his hand made the arc of lightning crack the air of thunder and whip madly.  
  
Every spell, every last single one of them was caught in the arc of lightning, as if attracted to it and fizzled upon contact, letting out a small crack of thunder. When everyone stopped, Dumbledore closed his open hand into a fist and jerked it outwards. The lightning thundered once more before fading. He spun his wand the right way in his hand and placed it onto his desk.  
  
"Bloody good demonstration, Professor!" shouted Lee, clapping his hands (and he was the only one).  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Jordan. I daresay, if more than two got through I would be on the floor twitching," he said with a faint laugh. "Remeber, Declino is the spell to deflect but to send it off in a desired direction, you have to touch the spell with your wand, not your hand, mind you, and add 'ad Ablegare' as you move your wand. When you stop moving your wand, the spell will be released. Declino ad Ablegare. Everyone?"  
  
"Declino ad Ablegare!" chorused the class.  
  
"Good. Now, just one change. Mr. Potter, if you would stand in the center back row? You will be redirecting two spells at once." He smiled again at Harry, who walked casually over to his new position. Harry had no idea how he was going to manage to redirect two spells at once without hitting someone with one of them... or himself. Would he end up on the floor twitching? Would the spells get absorbed and something very strange happen? He didn't feel too worried. He glittered his skin in preparation.  
  
"I ask that you do this without the mark." Harry's worriless mood became a slight sinking of his stomach. Is Dumbledore mad? "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, as per your absence, I only need to mention one thing. You must use the charm before the spell hits you. At which point the spell will be attracted to your wand.  
  
"It is a simple finger-flapper curse. You will simply drop your wand if the curse hits." He paused for a moment and held his wand backwards again. Harry copied this hold of his own wand. "On the count of three, be ready." He readied his wand. Everyone looked just as nervous as Harry did. "One... two... three! Digitus Verbero!" As he finished the words, he jerked his wand side to side very fast. Two flashes of light shot towards Hermione and Pansy Parkinson.  
  
"Declino... ad Ablegare!" shouted Hermione and Pansy. They were successful.  
  
"Declino... ad - Ablegare!" shouted Ron and Goyle quite hoarsely. They, too, were successful. Onto Seamus and Crabbe... Lee and some shivering Slytherin girl... When it got down to Neville, his hand shook wildly and his wand fell.  
  
"Shall we try again?" said Dumbledore, perfectly calm. It took a minute before Neville's hand stopped shaking. "Digitus Verbero!"  
  
Hermione and Pansy, Ron and Goyle, Seamus and Crabbe... back to Neville (who was successful)... five people from Harry... four people from Harry... three... two... right next to... Harry saw it all in slow motion. He raised his wand to shoulder height, looking back and forth between the two spears of light. He moved his hand to the middle of his wand and said "Declino..." then spun his wand and finished, "ad Ablegare!" Success!  
  
The two spells shot off towards the people at his side and continued down towards Harry and Pansy (Neville was sucessful twice in a row!).  
  
"Not hard at all, eh, Harry?" said Dumbledore, beaming at Harry. "Both edges of your wand are capable of deflecting spells. The Deflector spell covers the entire wand making all of it useful in deflection. Unfortunately, you will not be able to Deflect more powerful spells in this manner. Only very weak curses can be reflected this way. Much more potent magic exists to deflect more powerful spells but such magic is beyond the scope of Hogwarts.  
  
"And, of course, there is no magic to deflect the Unforgiveables." The rest of the class was spent letting off simple hexes and bouncing them all around the room. Neville and Draco got hit by finger flappers on more than one occasion. Neville got hit on his own account, Malfoy was hit by someone else's doing...  
  
Potions had been canceled. Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to take a quiet seat in the library since they were sure to not get any quiet back at the commons. Harry was in great spirits, much better than previous days. Ron and Hermione took notice and tried not to dull it. Harry seemed too happy, in fact, because he decided to give Ron the Firebolt now.  
  
"One minute, I have to get something from my trunk," he excused himself as he went to grab the Firebolt hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. When he returned, Sirius had been sitting at the table as well.  
  
"What was that private shopping you had to do, Harry, anyway?" asked Ron.  
  
Sirius and Harry spoke in tandem. "I have something for you, Ron/Harry." They exchanged looks of question. "What?" they said together again. Sirius turned to Harry and Harry turned to Ron. "I bought you a Dragonback/Firebolt!" Ron and Harry both fell out of their chairs.  
  
"A WHAT?!" said both of them.  
  
"Accio," said Sirius. Harry uncovered the Firebolt from underneath the cloak. Ron looked ready to faint.  
  
"Oh," said Ron, "no... Harry..."  
  
"Take it. It was on sale, only two hundred and thirty galleons. They witch at the counter insisted I take it for free and I refused. Consider it a late Christmas present." Harry smiled at the look of Ron's face which was a mix of joy and embarassment.  
  
"What about you?"  
  
Sirius shoved the Dragonback under Harry's nose. It was a work of pure art. The stick was black with the twigs colored like fire. Harry had his turn of feeling ready to faint. By the sheer looks of it, it was faster, sleeker and better than any broom Harry had seen yet. It was also quite a bit longer than the Firebolt, about as tall as Sirius.  
  
"When you fly on it, the twigs are bewitched to move like fire," said Sirius. "Lasts a lifetime. I got a self-repairing charm put on it for two hundred extra galleons." And he demonstrated by smashing it on the floor. "Capable of speeds near three hundred miles per hour. Happy Christmas!" He gave the very stiff Harry, who clutched the Dragonback tighly in both hands, a hug.  
  
Harry's stiffness finally came to an end when he laughed with total glee and said, "Hey Ron, wanna go test these out?"  
  
"Sure!"  
  
The Dragonback moved so fast and with such a high rate of acceleration it was, well, okay, not really like Dispparating. Harry could fly from one end of the Quidditch field to the other in mere seconds. The Snitch had no chance. If he was stopped in mid air then leaned at just a forty five degree angle forward, he would have to hold his glasses and grip the Dragonback as tightly as he could. The first time he tried, he nearly fell off.  
  
Ron appreciated the Firebolt just the same. Harry let him ride his own when Sirius got it for him but from the look on Ron's face, it was nothing like having one to call your own. The two of them did zig zags and three hundred foot dives.  
  
"Harry, grab onto me," called Ron from across the Quidditch field. "Let's see how fast the Dragonback really is!"  
  
"You sure that's a good idea?" asked Harry as he flew over.  
  
"Start at the caste and head towards Hogsmeade!"  
  
"Okay..." he said cautiously. "Better off you get on with me and hold on tight. Don't let the Firebolt go." Harry moved up a little and Ron grabbed Harry around the waist tight with his Firebolt. When both were sure they weren't going to slip off, Harry made his way to the towers of Hogwarts... and leaned all the way forward. The Dragonback nearly lost both of them as they slipped backwards a few terrifying inches.  
  
As the ground beneath them became a mere blur, a feeling of euphoria crept over both of them. Flying at three hundred miles per hour is, afterall, not something you experience every day. The lake became a stream of blue. Hogsmeade station was no more than a few blobs and before they knew it, Harry and Ron were so far away from town and out into open woods that they were clearly lost.  
  
"Any idea where you're going?" asked Ron, sounding a little scared.  
  
"Relax. I can Disapparate, remember?" Harry felt perfectly calm. He could Disapparate, afterall and with one hundred percent accuracy. There was no reason to worry, right? Harry slowed the Dragonback to Cleansweep Seven speeds.  
  
"Those trees are getting awfully dark..." They flew deeper and deeper into unknown wood that looked very similar to the forest near Hogwarts. Does it continue this far?  
  
"Can we just go a little farther?" Harry gave the Dragonback a little burst of speed and they plunged so far into the forest that the direction they came from could not be determined. This forest, whatever, and most importantly, wherever it was, was a scary thing.  
  
The two of them continued to gaze over the trees that, as they looked farther out, turned a darker and darker shade of green, almost to black. Beastly voices and echoes hit their ears. Ron felt chills but Harry's mode of stone remained.  
  
"W-we should head back..." said Ron.  
  
The Dragonback fell suddenly. "HARRY!" The drop stopped as suddenly as it started. Harry giggled.  
  
"Relax!"  
  
"Coulda given me a heart attack."  
  
"Just a little more, okay?" Harry slowed the Dragonback to walking speed. "What do you think this is?"  
  
"I think this is a place we shouldn't be." Harry felt Ron's grip tighten.  
  
"Fine, okay. We have to land, though. I don't want to try doing it mid-air. We may just fall the rest of the way."  
  
"Just do me a favor and use the mark, okay?" Harry heeded Ron's very reasonable request.  
  
The forest below them looked far more treacherous than they've ever seen the forbidden forest look. Harry landed the Dragonback in a small clearing of trees. From the inside, the two forests were indistinguishable. Thick trees as far as the eye can see and bushes and branches that seemed to be alive. The echoes and voices came faster and began to sound louder with each passing moment. A bush near Harry jigged wildly but before the two of them could see what it was, they were standing back on the Quidditch field, perfectly safe.  
  
"Whew," said Ron, taking a seat on the comforting grounds of Hogwarts. Harry walked not two steps before Ron pulled on his leg.  
  
"What is it?" Harry looked at Ron's face and turned in his head's direction to see what it could possibly be.  
  
One voice spoke. "Thank you for paying a visit to my territory!" something said, laughing. "You will come again, I hope?" Then another voice spoke as Harry's eyes deadened.  
  
"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe." Wormtail's voice speared through Harry as his eyes opened and he saw what Ron was looking at: a dementor.  
  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" bellowed Harry. The pearly white figure of James' stag shot forth from Harry's wand. The dementor ran in a panic as the Patronus charged after it and when the dementor was out of sight, the Patronus withered away.  
  
"Harry/Ron!" Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall called after them. Did they see them Apparate back? Both of them turned around to see both Professors sprinting towards them. Ron scrambled to his feet.  
  
"What is a dementor doing on school grounds, Albus?" panicked McGonagall. He turned his attention to her.  
  
"I only have one anwer," he replied gravely. "It is that they are under the control of Voldemort." Dumbledore then looked towards Harry and Ron. "What were you doing when it showed up?" Apparently they hadn't seen them Apparate.  
  
"Flying around the Quidditch field," they both said.  
  
"You are both fine, I presume?"  
  
"Yeah," said Ron. "Harry scared it away soon as we saw it."  
  
"Right. Yes, well, please hurry inside," said Dumbledore. No need to say it twice, Ron and Harry rushed inside.  
  
During lunch an hour later, Harry, Ron, Sirius, Michelle and Hermione found a quiet spot at the Gryffindor table...  
  
"What d'you think that tattoo on Brev's neck is?" asked Ron.  
  
"Oh please," said Hermione slightly sickened. "Why would anyone get a tattoo of a snake?"  
  
"I don't know Hermione," said Michelle suspciously. "Why would they?" Michelle took a big spoonful of her soup as Hermione tried to answer the surprise question.  
  
"W-well... I-it.. th-that is I-"  
  
"Come off it," barked Sirius. "I've seen it before. Just a bunch of freaks in Slytherin showing their pride. They all died, no worries."  
  
"I've got a better question," said Harry.  
  
"What?" asked Ron.  
  
"Where's Snape and why's Dumbledore so quiet about it?"  
  
"Voldemort has him-" started Hermione...  
  
"Look at that, you said his name!" said Harry as he clapped softly. Hermione's face became a little red.  
  
"I personally think he went willingly," suggested Michelle, "and Dumbledore wants him forgotten."  
  
"That's a little harsh, don't you think?" said Hermione.  
  
"I don't think so," said Harry slowly. He took a sip from his goblet. Michelle and Ron both gave Harry eyes of question. "Come on, look how he treats everyone who's not in Slytherin!" he blurted out.  
  
"Harry's got a point," said Sirius, nodding at Harry.  
  
"Fine," said Michelle barely audibly with a little digust in her tone.  
  
"What's wrong with you today?" said Harry, nervous and puzzled at the same time.  
  
Michelle didn't say a word, she simply put down her spoon and walked out the Great Hall quickly. Ron, Harry, Sirius and Hermione watched speechless as she left.  
  
"Soup, anybody?" said Harry.  
  
The rest of the day progressed as smooth as that morning had. During Diviniation, Professor Trelawney continued spirit-talking. The whole class joined hands once again to call another spirit. Harry had the lead and as Trelawney made him gulp down a Spirit Potion, it was do or die - he wanted to call a spirit of his own choosing. Harry was determined to find out whether or not it could be done and this was the perfect opportunity.  
  
Trelawney blew out the candles, put out the fire and gave Harry her crystal ball. All of the professors, except Trelawney, avoided letting Harry use the mark. She, on the other hand, had him use it every class. She motioned for him to start. He did as he had done last time but this time he concentrated hard on Lily and James. Harry was going to call them. He was sure of it... or at the very least, he would try not to get a spirit to scare them again.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and his hands rolled over the ball on their own accord, his skin glowing brightly. He promised himself, "They'll come, just concentrate." The crystal ball grew hot and sudden smoke like rotten apples filled his nose. He felt something strange in his arms, like they were falling asleep but the tingle was more like static shocks. "Mom, dad... where are you?"  
  
The smoke smell grew thicker and he opened his eyes. The crystal ball grew as bright as his skin. The clouds inside were forming into a body... the white shape almost looked familiar. A torso left the crystal ball and Harry stared at it hopefully. It grew two arms and two legs. Long hair fell down it's back.  
  
It was no one Harry knew.  
  
"Sibyll, stop predicing Harry's death," said the faceless shape. "I'm sure he's getting a little annoyed at it by now."  
  
The white clouds vanished into the center of the crystal ball. Harry sat redfaced. Ron stifled a laugh. Parvati and Patil looked just as horrified as they had been when the a spirit told them about an ancient walking through Hogwarts.  
  
"Very well," said Trelawney. "I shall stop." It sounded like it took a great deal of effort to say those three words.  
  
Dinner was all but quiet...  
  
"Potter!" cracked Malfoy from the Slytherin table amid thunderous laughs. He walked over to Harry with his bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
"Yeah?" replied Harry cooly.  
  
"I heard your sister took a leave of absence," he snickered. Harry felt his cool attitude slowly start to leave him. "Is that permanent?" He laughed again. Indeed, Michelle had not shown up for dinner...  
  
"She's just a little upset..."  
  
"Tsk, tsk... if you only knew... But I'm not telling you, I'll wait to see the look on your face when you find out."  
  
"Tell me what?" said Harry, now standing up.  
  
"You don't know! I thought you might have figured it out by now. Voldemort's an ancient, you know. Better keep watch on yourself!"  
  
"Get em, Harry!" squealed Colin Creevey, one of Harry's biggest... and most annoying fans. Colin had followed Harry around during his second year, taking pictures and yelling "Hey, Harry!" whenever Harry was in Colin's range of view. Harry's skin glowed perfect white out of instinct.  
  
"And all your annoying friends," Malfoy added. "Wouldn't want to get you upset or anything, though..." He was doing a good job.  
  
"Crack another joke," threatened Harry, "come on..." Harry jumped over the table like it was a levitation charm. He wasn't at all scared of any of them including the sight of Thantanos Brev. Did Dumbledore find out what happened at the Three Broomsticks?  
  
"Oh, Harry!" called Brev sound very cheery. "How are you? Weren't at all phased by what happened yesterday, were you?" He walked over to Harry.  
  
"Did you like my spell?" said Harry coldly.  
  
"What spell?" Brev looked confused. He leaned closer and said, "After that Cruciatus, I just left, what are you talking about? Seeing things again?"  
  
"I remember it perfectly," said Harry, suddenly not sounding so sure of himself. What happened? His mind was tricked before... only this past summer did he think Dumbledore had nearly died but it was all in his head. It happened again, hadn't it... Brev's Crucio had made him dream and he dreamed he tortured Brev with an extraordinarily strong Crucio of his own. "I... y-you-"  
  
"Tut, careful, Harry... might do something you will regret in the after life..." Brev's smile dripped with evil and insanity. Regret it or not, Harry couldn't take it. Brev lifted his wand and pointed it at Harry. "Avada Kedav-"  
  
"EXPELLIARMUS!" thundered Harry. It hit Brev with force Harry never knew. Brev was thrown hard halfway up the left wall of the Great Hall and fell down leaving a dent in it. Brev's wand was now in Harry's hand. "Kill..." said a cold voice, slowly, to Harry, the voice of the basilisk. It repeated itself as another voice said, "Stop wasting your time, Harry. And mine." The chatter in the Great Hall ceased immediately. Harry pinched himself hard to make sure his mind wasn't playing games. He was fully assured this was all very real.  
  
With three more motions, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle followed the same path of Brev, landing right next to Brev on the far back wall.  
  
"HARRY, NO!" cried Hermione at his side. He ignored the voices outside his head and only listened to the one rushing to tell him, "Get it over with and do it now!"  
  
"Come on Brev!" shouted Harry. "You're a Death Eater, I know you are! Where's Voldemort? Can't save you now, can he?" Everyone could hear him speaking and he didn't care what the teachers were trying to do, as he hadn't bothered to look in their direction. Someone gave him a pull as he walked forward towards the fallen Brev, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle but he shook the hands away. "DO IT!" spoke the voice again. Harry clasped his hands and closed his eyes, obeying.  
  
Brev and Malfoy bursted into laughter.  
  
"Sirius!" barked Brev. "Look at him!" Harry turned straight around to see Sirius, but it was not the Sirius Harry knew. He was staring right through Harry as if he didn't exist. His face was white as a ghost and he wasn't moving. It had happened, he slipped off into a zombie state. This was Harry's breaking point.  
  
"Parcere meus vita, parcere meus anima," chanted Harry. "Yes..." said the voice, sounding more evil, "that's it."  
  
"Accio potentia caeles intus veneficus adfirmo," Harry continued. "Ah! The enhanced version!" A fierce wind kicked up, moving Harry around ever so slightly.  
  
"Adiumentum meus via. Parcere meus vita, parcere meus anima." The surrounding air grew hot. Harry opened his eyes to see the dark blue haze already forming around him. The white blobs began to populate the immediate area followed by the deep rumble shaking the floor.  
  
"Excellent!" cried the voice.  
  
"Addere ultimus clades ad parcere nullus altera!" A squishy organic sound filled the air followed by a horrific spray of blood and gore. The sound originated too close to Harry for comfort. A thunderstorm of blood, far more than Harry wished to see, rained on the immediate area. Something soft and gushy hit him hard in the back nearly knocking him down.  
  
This time his stomach did fall out of him. Harry turned his eyes all the way right and slowly turned his head around to see who had become nothing but a fountain. The sight of more blood... arms, a foot, fingers and some toes. The dismembered head of Colin lay on top of a pile of carrots. The slow and cold laughter of Brev began to fill the air. Harry's legs became as jelly and he fell hard on the seat behind him. This was a dream. He nearly had himself convinced but Dumbledore started running up to him.  
  
Harry Disapparated to his four-post bed and cried himself to sleep an hour later. No one dared to try to speak with him. 


	13. The Spirit Mirror

Chapter 13: THE SPIRIT MIRROR  
  
(Author's Note:  
It took a LONG FRIGGIN TIME to write the final scene in this chapter, you have no idea)  
  
"Alright, I'll speak to him. I don't like it anymore than you do."  
  
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore!"  
  
"Run along to breakfast now, Hermione." Harry sat up in bed. Someone had changed him into pajamas, removed his glasses and cleaned up the mess. He tried to surpress last night as he stared at the profile of Dumbledore but with the look on that face, he couldn't.  
  
"I'm losing it," said Harry plainly. "I keep hearing the basilisk from three years ago. Nearly had me kill Malfoy. It's dead, how did it come back?"  
  
"It is dead," replied Dumbledore flatly.  
  
"Then what-"  
  
"-that's not a snake, Harry. That's Voldemort." Dumbledore put on a serious face. Harry didn't know what to make of it.  
  
"But, I thought he-"  
  
"-he's no longer in the United States," Dumbledore interrupted again. "Brev has been his contact for here and there. I had him confess with a Truth Potion immediately after you Disapparated. He has been thoroughly kicked out of Hogwarts, I assure you." There was fire at the name of Brev behind those half-moon spectacles."  
  
"And Colin-"  
  
"-is dead I'm afraid. His parents have been notified and they were informed that Voldemort did it, as is truth."  
  
"I did it..."  
  
"It was not your mind that was controlling your actions, Harry," said Dumbledore wisely. The words were still no comfort to Harry. "The mark must be removed."  
  
"And does anyone know how?" asked Harry. He felt slightly angry every time someone said that. It wasn't that he didn't agree, it was the hopelessness that Voldemort was the only one who knew.  
  
"You might know two more people that do..." No one ever said Harry's parents' names nor referred to them as "mom" and "dad." The subject was just too touchy.  
  
"BUT THEY'RE DEAD!" shouted Harry. "No magic exists to bring back the dead, you said so yourself."  
  
"Harry," started Dumbledore fully patiently...  
  
"What," he grunted back. Dumbledore pointed at a long, thin object resting at the foot of Harry's bed covered in a black cloak.  
  
"Open it." Harry got on his knees bending forward and ripped the cloak off to reveal,  
  
"The Mirror of Erised!" said Harry staring at the back of it in shock. "I can't look at it." Harry went back to laying in bed.  
  
"Remember four years ago when you asked me what I see in the mirror? I will tell you. For the past twenty years, one of several images has been appearing in it but for the past fourteen years two more images have been disturbing me as well." Harry's stomach swelled as he took a guess.  
  
"Your guess is right," said Dumbledore standing in front of the mirror. "In one, I see Lily and James bringing you to the Hogwarts Express for your first year." Harry could recall a dream of his mom bringing him to platform nine and three-quarters. "In another, I see you running up to James after your first year, grabbing him and then doing the same to your mother.  
  
"The third image is Voldemort... dead at the hands of James." Harry continued his stare hanging on every word. "I look into the mirror, Harry, once every two months to remind myself of whom and what I treasure most. I bring it to you so that you may find a use for it."  
  
"And how-"  
  
"I do not know what you will come up with-"  
  
"And how is the mirror going to help me?" snapped Harry.  
  
"You will find a way," said Dumbledore calmly, patting Harry on the shoulder. "You always have. I have faith and you should too." And at those words, he left. As Harry went down to breakfast, he felt sure that,  
  
"Dumbledore is insane," said Harry as he bit into his pancakes. "Do you know what he did?"  
  
"Yes," replied Hermione. She shoved her goblet up to her mouth and drank what had to be all of it in one gulp.  
  
"What am I supposed to do with the mirror?" said Harry, mouth full of pancakes. He chewed it down and added, "And that reminds me, I'm going to get the lowest number of O.W.L.s in the entire school because I haven't had any free time to study."  
  
"How about you stay out of trouble for the rest of the year, hmm?" suggested Hermione. "Then maybe I can help you."  
  
"Maybe... but I have to remove this stupid mark..."  
  
"Harry," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "it can wait."  
  
"No it can't," said Sirius and he pulled her arm off. "The sooner the better."  
  
"He's right," muttered Harry.  
  
"Yes, I'm right. Why did Dumbledore give you the mirror, anyway?"  
  
"He said I'll find something, that I always have. Lost his marbles, he has..."  
  
"You seem awfully cheery this morning, Harry," piped Michelle.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore sorta cheered me up. Seems he wants me to find a way to talk to my parents."  
  
"Well that's great!" cheered Hermione. "Isn't it?" she added cautiously.  
  
"No, because I have no ideas," grumbled Harry.  
  
During Paladism that morning, Harry refused to speak to Dumbledore. The morning had been too awkward and he was slightly angry at leaving Harry with nothing than the mirror and zero words of comfort. The only thing that cheered him up was the thought of what was to come.  
  
Ron had repeatedly messed up deflecting a finger-flapper during Paladism that day. The end result was both hands wriggling uncontrollably and when it reached to his arms, he found himself with his hands on a very awkward part of his body... Hermione quickly remedied the situation with a body bind, letting the finger-flapper wear out (Dumbledore said to wait two minutes). Dumbledore mentioned that he and Moody were combining lessons so as to make sure they could all do spell reflection properly. "It's such a big part of wizardy," repeated Ron in a snotty voice.  
  
Later that night, Harry and Ron were practicing spirit-talking. Professor Trelawney had given them a spare crystal ball she bought. The two of them wondered if she hadn't bought it the day before...  
  
It was about midnight when everyone was sleeping did they actually get the smoke in the ball to swirl around inside.  
  
"What do you think we'll get this time?" said Harry in his best fortuneteller voice.  
  
"An old ink bottle that talks," said Ron.  
  
"Let's find out," said Harry. He closed his eyes and began rolling his hands over the ball, his skin glowing faintly. Harry noticed that he did not need to make his skin glow as bright each time he did this. It was getting easier.  
  
"Stupid old mirror," muttered Ron, standing in front of it. "I don't see anything in it."  
  
"Maybe you're as happy as you can be," said Harry stifling a giggle. He opened his eyes. "I'd like to know what this smoke is," he complained as the familiar foul stench filled his nose.  
  
"I'd like to know what's going on with the mirror," said Ron not trying to hide the shakiness. "HARRY STOP!" Harry stopped immediately. "Look, look at the mirror!" said Ron frantically pointing at it. He woke up Seamus Dean and Neville in his shouting.  
  
"What," yawned Neville. The three of them crowded around the mirror. Good thing the mirror seemed to not be working properly.  
  
Something fleshy and solid, pure black in color, was receeding into the mirror as if Harry had made it come out. It looked thin like a snake but could have very well been a human arm. "Coming out! There was someone with black skin coming out of the mirror!"  
  
"W-what?" asked Seamus  
  
Something striked Harry as strange. "I'm going to try that again. Tell me when it's coming out."  
  
"You sure that's not stupid?"  
  
"Yes," said Harry confidently. "Just... just stay close to me, all of you. Okay?" Harry tried to hide it, but he wasn't sure what was going to happen either. He repeated the process.  
  
"It's coming out again!" blurted Ron, grabbing onto Harry's arm very tightly. "Black skin! IT'S GOT BIG TEETH! HARRY, STOP!"  
  
Harry ripped his hands off the crystal ball and sprang up to see what Ron was talking about. He fell backwards at the sight of what had protruded from the mirror. The black figure had extended a neck out gritting large teeth. It looked like a demon. No hair, horns protruding where ears should be and twirling around to the front of it's forehead. It had no nose but thin lips and large, fang-like teeth. It's eyes were closed as it started to get sucked back into the mirror.  
  
"All right, everyone?" asked Harry, asking himself just the same thing. Seamus, Ron, Neville and Dean all gave Harry a short nod. "I think we've had enough, tonight," said Harry sharply.  
  
"W-what was that," asked Dean.  
  
"I don't know," said Harry, not hiding he shakiness in his voice either. "Ron, would you let go of my arm, it's falling asleep." Ron removed his death grip and slowly got up to get into his four-post bed. "No mention of this to anyone, all right?"  
  
"All right," said Seamus and Ron. Neville quivered under his covers and Dean just sort of nodded.  
  
As Harry lay in bed, he couldn't help but think about what that was and why had simply trying to call a spirit make it come out? Very puzzling questions, they were, that he would try to answer the following afternoon.  
  
Harry waited for Ron and the others to head off to breakfast. He made the excuse that he was going to spend time studying for his O.W.L.s and had some food from breakfast (he had really given it to Hedwig).  
  
He sat in front of the Mirror of Erised and decided he would try to not close his eyes when attempting it. After several minutes of failure, the clouds inside the crystal ball began swirling very fast. Harry made his skin glow a perfect, blinding white in preparation for anything bad... in case that demon escaped the mirror. He felt afraid but was sure he knew what he was doing. Somehow, he missed Ron's tight grip on his arm giving him the confidence that they knew he would make sure they would all be all right should something bad happen.  
  
Harry looked up at the mirror. The face had started to protrude again. The black skin, the horns, the hairless head and the huge fangs... It's eyes opened up and it grinned evilly at Harry, waiting patiently for the rest of it's body to emerge. It had thick, broad shoulders and arms with unnaturally large biceps and horns at the elbows. It started to sprawl out on the floor and Harry sat, not moving, keeping his concentration. Hips protruded. It's clothing consisted merely of a loin cloth and thighs as thick as Harry's own head and legs to match.  
  
The moment it fully escaped from the mirror, the demon lunged at Harry. He stumbled backwards, barely getting out of the way of the huge teeth and claws.  
  
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" he thundered. The demon shook off the spell and swung it's sharp claws at Harry. "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" he bellowed. The demon barely moved an inch. It walked slowly, grinning madly all the same. Harry backed up across the room tripping over random objects. "FORTITUDUNUS!" he screamed, frightened half to death, wand pointing at himself. His own arms grew as thick as the demons and he tried to punch it but it skillfully dodged everything.  
  
"EVASTO COMPOSTIS IPSE!" he tried. The demon's legs gave a short-lived jiggle and all was well again. "INFERNUS GRANDIS INFLAMORA!"  
  
"I like fire," it said. Harry dashed out of the portrait hole and the creature followed. Both of them took off like rockets through the halls of Hogwarts. Harry had no idea where to go or what to do. It slowly gained ground on him.  
  
Harry passed Ron and Hermione as he rounded the stairs. "RUN!" he thundered. The two of them caught sight of the creature chasing him and wasted no time running in the other direction. The creature noticed them and took off after them instead of Harry.  
  
It picked up Ron by the middle, looking quite ready to bite his head off. Harry, panicking, kicked the back of it's knee making it growl madly but succeeded in grabbing it's attention. "Help!" he growled impatiently.  
  
"This doesn't look to be as easy as a mountain troll!" quivered Ron. The creature conjured a fireball in a hand and tossed it at Hermione. Harry dashed over and toppled her over. The fireball made contact with the wall but didn't do anything.  
  
"Come on," he said, grabbing both of them. The creature continued to gain ground and after a few minutes of running in circles, it caught up with them, lifting Harry high into the air.  
  
"Ah," it growled. The air from it's mouth smelled fouler than Snape's office. "You'll make a good breakfast treat." Four more footsteps could be heard making their way down the hallway. The bloody scream of Professor McGonagall startled the creature and it dropped Harry.  
  
"Fides in flamma, fides in ipse," Harry began chanting very fast as he motioned for everyone to continue running. Harry was heading for the entrance hall, hoping to lead it outside. The mark, however, wasn't casting a spell for him, he was totally aware of it and, in fact, it was his direct choice to use it.  
  
"NO!" it roared, breaking into a much more ferocious run. Harry stumbled on his own two feet. The demon was apparently very stupid, powerful as it might be.  
  
"Accio caeles intus venia," continued Harry. He was speaking so fast he nearly stumbled over the words. They rounded the stairs of the entrance hall. Ron tripped, falling hard on the stairs.  
  
"RON!" screamed Hermione. Dumbledore waved his wand and the body of Ron floated behind them as they ran outside.  
  
"STOP!" growed the creature. Another fireball had appeared in it's hand and it looked ready to throw. Harry sped up his words tenfold.  
  
"Ambio iaculor in comae exsuscito AD ABORIOR ABSOLVERE!" he screamed with his hands now clasped.  
  
"NO!" it roared, as a bright light erupted from it's center, so bright Harry had to turn away. He heard it fall hard onto the floor. They all stopped running, short of breath. Harry fell onto the ground trying to catch his own. Dumbledore set Ron down.  
  
"I dare not ask how you managed to conjure that," said Professor McGonagall panting heavily at the sight of the dead creature. "I also dare not ask how you managed to kill something Albus and myself have trouble with." Her legs went limp and Dumbledore caught her. "Explain yourself!" she screamed. Dumbledore looked, as always, perfectly calm.  
  
"I-I was just practicing spirit-talking last night when Ron and I noticed something coming out of the mirror," admitted Harry. "I wanted to see what it was, so I let it-"  
  
The creature gave another bloody roar and stood up.  
  
"STAY DEAD!" bellowed Harry. Now was the time to use Clades Ultimus under his own free will, for once. "Parcere meus vita, parcere meus anima," started Harry calmly. The creature looked too frightened to move. It obviously knew how deadly Clades Ultimus was. It made a break for the castle. "Accio potentia caeles intus veneficus adfirmo." The creature banged hard against the castle doors, which Dumbledore had conveniently locked. "Adiumentum meus via. Parcere meus vita, parcere meus anima. Addere ultimus clades AD PARCERE NULLUS ALTERA!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. The demon exploded just as Colin Creevey had.  
  
"Oh my goodness," said McGonagall, now taking a seat on the ground, black blood all over the five of them.  
  
"I'm not at all surprised, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "It was only in due time that Harry should learn to take control of the mark's power." Harry let out a weak smile. Killing otherwordly creatures can be fun, but it's not something you want to make a living out of. "It is still no time to celebrate and does not mean Lord Voldemort can no longer control you with it."  
  
"That creature is a type of Balrog, a shadow and fire demon," continued Dumbledore. "You said it came out of the mirror? It might be possible that Voldemort is playing with forbidden magic, abusing the mark, but... I can only hope not. Summoning and conjuring magic died along with the ancients. I can only reason that your mark conjured up a demon through the mirror."  
  
"I have a good question," said Harry, feeling puzzled. "If the ancients are dead, how do I and others have this thing?"  
  
"Descendants of the ancients were known, for hundreds of years after, to bear the mark but that's not all. Several students with the mark have had their bloodline traced down thousands of years and no sign of an ancient was found. I'm sorry. It is... unexplainable and to propose anyone is a descendant of an ancient is utterly preposterous. Entire families of ancients were thought to have been slain during a riot about three thousand years ago."  
  
Harry hung over Dumbledore's words all through the rest of the day and especially during Quidditch practice after dinner. He remembered hearing that Ron had been made captain (and lots of cheering took place). Harry didn't talk much during any classes and especially during dinner. He decided to once again to try his luck in front of the mirror.  
  
"You're crazy, Harry," said Ron flatly. "What if a real, full size Balrog comes this time? They're so big they will break the ceiling just standing up!"  
  
"I'm trying again," said Harry, throwing his cloak on his bed. "If you don't like it, go. If you want to watch, stay close to me." That didn't leave Ron much choice. He grabbed onto Harry's arm again as Harry removed the cloak on the mirror. He made his skin glow the same perfect, extraordinarily bright white as he proceeded, closing his eyes. After several minutes of nothing,  
  
"Something's coming, but... it's different," said Ron, sounding almost cheerful. "Harry! Look!" The sight made Harry freeze where he sat. The head of a woman with long hair was protruding from the mirror. The face was obvious and he stopped immediately, springing to his feet, not believing what he just saw.  
  
"Go to bed Ron," said Harry sharply.  
  
"But-"  
  
"Forget it," said Harry even more sharply.  
  
It was Lily's. Harry changed into pajamas as quickly as he could, crawled into bed and pulled his covers up to his chin. The thought made him shiver. Harry managed to foresee a demon's path through the mirror but he couldn't let him his mom come through. He couldn't continue that, he just couldn't.  
  
Conversation broke out over breakfast Friday morning when Ron mentioned what happened.  
  
"You killed a young Balrog," said Michelle, "but you couldn't let mom come?"  
  
"You want to try?" snapped Harry. "I never knew them. At least you got to say goodbye." He poked his eggs with a fork. It looked like he wouldn't be eating again. He looked up at Michelle. "Feeling better?"  
  
"What?" she said, sounding like she forgot that she ran out on them just a few days ago. "Oh, right. Yeah, feeling fine."  
  
"Are you all right?" said Harry, eyeing her. "Been acting a little strange past few days."  
  
"Yeah!" she squeaked. Harry sighed and stuff half a forkfull of eggs into his mouth.  
  
"Harry, after dinner you have to call Lily," said Sirius. "Want us to be there with you?" Half of Harry's trouble of feeling weak about his mom falling out of the mirror was how she, or better yet, how he, would react. Afterall, all he knew about his parents was what Michelle had told him. It wasn't much to rely on. Harry's stomach gave off a feeling he couldn't recognize but it was one of pending worry. He couldn't answer when he asked himself why he couldn't show it, but he wanted nothing more than for Sirius and Michelle to be at his side when -- or better yet, if -- his mom came.  
  
If he fainted, they would revive him. If he cried, no one would laugh at him. If he found himself without words, they would calm him. Harry then realized... he would be with his family. A feeling of warmth and comfort crept over him, it was the best feeling Harry could ever recall... but he hid the smile rather well.  
  
He sorta nodded weakly, opening his mouth as if to say, "Yeah," but the word didn't come out.  
  
At nine, Harry and the rest of the fifth years made their way into the Great Hall for the explanation on their O.W.L.s. It was all just as Hermione had told them. They were to be tested on material during their first four years as well as material they were not taught yet. And they were to commence rabid studying immediately...  
  
That night, a little after twelve, Harry, Michelle and Sirius walked up to Harry's four-poster. Neville, Dean and Seamus made for the commons, they agreed to let Harry alone.  
  
Harry, quite tired for being up so late, took a seat directly in front of the mirror on the floor Indian style, the crystal ball in front of him. Michelle sat on the ledge near the window and Sirius sat on Harry's bed, both of them waiting for Harry to start.  
  
"Now or never," said Sirius.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, shook his head and said, "Right," through bated breath. Both Sirius and Michelle stood up and sat down on either side of Harry. Michelle put her arm around him, holding onto his shoulder. It was a strange feeling to be held by someone, he thought. Harry never got more than a smile while living with the Dursleys for ten years. He had been devoid of affection and soon, he thought, he wouldn't be able to take it all in. Harry did feel very strange and if he didn't start now, he might be able to get it over with.  
  
Harry's skin glowed a perfect white, lighting up the room as if he were a lamp and rolled his hands over the crystal ball. He need not close his eyes this time and after mere seconds, it all began to take effect. Long hair began to protrude from the center of the mirror. The head of a woman extended out and the face was clearly visible. Her mid section began to extend out, followed by legs and then feet, spilling out onto the floor. Harry felt the breath leaving him. Then after several moments, Lily Potter, sprawled on the floor, sprang to life and stood up. The mirror, however, wasn't finished. Another figure wanted to come out.  
  
Black, untidy hair stuck out from the mirror's center. Harry's heart clamored as he watched the head he knew better as James Potter made it's way out of the Mirror of Erised. James' arms flailed lifelessly about as his body fell out of the mirror, followed by his legs... then feet. He, too, suddenly jerked to life and sprang up. What happened before Harry's eyes was all too much to take in. After his heart sped up out of control, it simply stopped for a little too long and Harry fell backwards in a cold faint.  
  
He woke up what must have been no more than a minute later, no longer tired. Harry's very own mom and dad, coupled with his sister and godfather beamed down at him as he lay in bed. He sat straight up, at a total loss for words. Harry hoped someone would say something soon because tears started to erupt from his eyes. He sniffed, brushed some tears away then simply threw his arms around his mom as he stood up. She immediately returned the favor and cozy, comforting warmth engulfed him.  
  
"We know everything," said Lily, as Harry continued sobbing. The real voice, the voice Harry only heard screaming in terror trying her best to fight off Voldemort. "The mirror, Dumbledore must have known, has a special reaction when one's desire is another person and tries to call that spirit."  
  
"What about your old man?" said James after a minute. It was the other voice that haunted him. Harry let go of his mom and tried to speak but only a few muffled sobs let loose and some choked words. James got on his knees in front of Harry and the two of them embraced. Harry was beside himself, too happy to care about much of anything.  
  
"Mom?" said Michelle. She, too, had a hard time reacting. "Dad? It's really you?"  
  
"Yes," said Lily softly, smiling.  
  
"How can you know what's going on?" said Michelle. She gave up a lot of strength to speak.  
  
"You have Harry's memory to thank for that," said James. He let go of Harry (who really didn't feel like letting go, but he did) and looked up at him. "It would appear he never forgot us. That, Harry, that kind of love keeps memories alive." Harry finally rang up enough of himself to speak.  
  
"You can stay... right?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"It may look like we're here," said Lily, trying to sound as sincere as possible, "and we are... poke us and we'll bleed..." She giggled.  
  
"But we'll disappear and it's impossible to say when..." Harry sniffed and took his usual seat on top of his bed. "Could be minutes... could be a day."  
  
"I'm sorry Harry," said Sirius, sounding just as sincere as Lily, "I really am, but there's stuff we have to get to in this reunion." It would appear that was the wrong word to say. Harry bawled into his hands, filling the room with the unmistakable giant hole he had in his heart for the past fourteen years. This hole longed to be filled in.  
  
Sirius realized this and was a little taken back by Harry's reaction. Lily sat down next to Harry and let him rest his head on her shoulder. After a few minutes, the loud crying had softened to a much more quiet, steady sob.  
  
"Oh, Harry..." said Lily, tearing.  
  
"He needs it more than I do," said Michelle. "That and I don't deserve it," she said flatly.  
  
"Don't be ashamed, Michelle," said James. "You did what you thought was right." Michelle could be seen tearing as well.  
  
"I ran out on you!" she said, her simple tearing turning into sobs. Harry's sobs had calmed into small whimpers. All the better, because Michelle would flare up at any moment. She sat on Ron's bed all by herself... at least until Lily sat down next to her and put her arm around Michelle, who grudingly did the same.  
  
Harry tried for dear life to calm himself down. It had taken a great deal of effort to speak so far.  
  
"Why?" he said, stopping his tears. All the questions he ever wanted to ask were going to leak out. "Why everything? Why does Voldemort want me dead?" Between each question he sniffed, his voice quivering uncontrollably. "Why was I stuck with the Dursleys? Why does it have to turn out like this?" He turned over and curled up on his bed.  
  
"We love both of you," said Lily, "very much." Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye Sirus had been talking to James at Ron's bed. Michelle came over to Harry with Lily. "We died once to save... you... Harry, and would do it again if we had to."  
  
"Don't say that!" he cried.  
  
"It's the truth. There's a group of Aurors called the Order of the Phoenix. They're all very dedicated in bringing down Voldemort and had almost succeeded but then he started getting followers... When we had you, we knew we had our work cut out for ourselves."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"James joined the Order to protect you. We're descendents of Godric Gryffindor. That's something special in itself but it gets better. Godric was the descendent of an ancient." She had Harry hanging on every word, much like Dumbledore had just a few days ago. "That makes you something quite special as you're the first person to show the mark of ancients in five thousand years.  
  
"Remember this past summer? That was indeed Voldemort trying to pull the mark out from you. He controlled select people with Imperius during the tournament and gave them some of your blood so the mark would run through them. Voldemort wants you gone because you're a living ancient."  
  
"- a what?" gasped Harry, much like he did when Hagrid first told him he was a wizard. Harry sat up.  
  
"Yes," said Lily softly behind a big smile. "You and Michelle. You were right that the ancients turned to the Dark side. They became arrogant... killed themselves over conflicts of interest. The mark was a charm they put on themselves and their chilren as a way to scare others off. The mark also served as part of the Dark Arts to strengthen them. It was made to glitter when they needed a little more strength and glow when they were to use much more powerful magic. It's golden when you're using it for good and black when using it for bad.  
  
"After a few hundred years, the mark became permanent and they no longer needed to use the charm. It was only visible in descendents of the ancients. For thousands of years, the mark did not show up in anyone... anyone! The first night you came home from St. Mungo's, it appeared, glittering softly. James and I were just as surprised to see it as you were when you first found out you were a wizard. We never never saw it in Michelle... it took a lot longer to show in her."  
  
It would take Harry several days to recover from this. He, Harry, was a descendent of an order of powerful wizards more than five thousand years old. He spent ten years of his life with three people who told their friends he goes to a school for mentally inept boys.  
  
"Unfortunately, that also makes you the only one strong enough to kill Voldemort. Albus has tried many times himself to take down Voldemort and failed. Voldemort has the mark, but it's weak in him. He wants you dead so he can mix your blood with his... we can't let that happen. I can't even begin to think why he didn't just finish it then. Thank goodness the mark is weaker in Michelle or Voldemort might have the two of you."  
  
Harry's eyes started to tear again. Why would Voldemort not persue Michelle as well? Harry felt slightly angry, angry that it all be up to him but he couldn't stay angry long. He could not stay angry when he was finally meeting his parents but it leaves him with more questions. Why remove the mark? What good will it do? Why can't he just kill Voldemort now?  
  
"I know what you're thinking and I can't tell you everything, Harry. You'll have to find out the rest as you go." Harry's questions were laid to rest. He trusted his own mom more than anyone. He turned to look at James who just stood there at the foot of his bed.  
  
"We're proud of you, Harry," he said. "Proud of everything you've done and we wouldn't change a thing." Harry's waterworks turned on but the moment was broken by two people coming up to them.  
  
"Severus!" shouted Lily.  
  
"Lily!" he shouted back.  
  
"Severus!" shouted James.  
  
"James!"  
  
"Remus!" Lily shouted.  
  
"Snape!" shouted Harry.  
  
"Someone want to tell me what's going on?" asked Michelle.  
  
"Harry, you know Remus," said James.  
  
"I do," said Harry, wiping the last of his tears so Snape couldn't see, "but... Snape... I thought?"  
  
"Save your wild stories, Potter," said Snape, looking directly at Harry, who's attention was averted by his dad.  
  
"You will not speak so coldly to him," he warned. Snape gave James a weaker version of the look of resentment he saves for Harry but it morphed into a weak smile. Harry hid a grin. Finally, someone to stand up to Snape for him.  
  
"No, Voldemort did not find me," said Snape flatly. "Albus asked me to immediately go find Remus after the end of the first term. We now have the fifteen people required to remove the mark of ancients." They all stared at Harry as his skin began to glow the usual perfect white, but dim. It lit the room with a soft moon glow.  
  
"Oh good," started Ron as he teetered around as well, Hermione behind him. "a flashli - WHOA!" He had obviously caught sight of Harry's parents. Hermione did not look surprised at all. Harry grinned broadly at Ron. "What - what are they... ?" said Ron. The grin grew bigger.  
  
"I finished it," said Harry as he pulled Ron into the room.  
  
"N-nice to meet you!" Ron looked like he was staring into the white eyes of a ghost. Lily and James walked over to Ron.  
  
"Hello!" cheered James. "You look a lot like your father when he was young."  
  
"You knew my parents?"  
  
"Oh, yeah... even told Arthur he'd have two little pranksters in his bag of kids."  
  
"This young lady is Hermione Granger?" said Lily.  
  
"Yes, pleasure!"  
  
"Ah!" said Dumbledore brightly as he, too, invaded the room. "I forgot!" He slapped his forehead with his hand. "The Mirror of Erised has been known to act strangely around spirit talkers... and ancients alike."  
  
"Hello, Albus," said James and Lily in unison.  
  
"Nice to see you again," James said as he shook Dumbledore's hand.  
  
"What?" said Dumbledore suspiciously as he looked at Harry. "You think I'd let you have them all to yourself?" The sparkle was evident behind his half-moon spectacles and he broke into a smile. "I believe Muggles might call this a Kodak moment?" He pulled out a camera. "How about it?"  
  
Harry broke into another big grin. Another picture to add to the photo album, he thought, but there were two words he had been wanting to say for a while now. He was overjoyed, yet slightly tired. It was getting late and tonight he would be sleeping the best in fourteen years.  
  
"Mom, why don't you stand behind me? Dad, stand over here on my left with Michelle on your right. Sirius, on my other side." They all followed Harry's direction, except Lily put her arms around Harry's front (he grabbed her hands), James put an arm around Lily and Michelle, and Sirius stretched his arm all the way out to James. Dumbledore snapped.  
  
Normally Harry wouldn't do this kind of thing around Snape but he couldn't resist. Lily let go of him and he turned around fast saying, "I love you, mom!" and grabbed her again.  
  
"Touching," said Snape, "very touching."  
  
"Get out," Harry barked, his skin glowing significantly brighter now. Snape's footsteps could be heard leaving.  
  
"You two will become friends eventually," said James. Harry let go.  
  
"He hates me so much I thought in my first year it was him that wanted me dead," said Harry flatly. James laughed. He knew obviously knew well the feeling Snape gave off.  
  
"Old Severus hates me more than you. I didn't think he'd ever forgive me from stopping him from getting to Remus. Like Albus said, when he did all he could to protect you from Voldemort that year, it was so he could let my memory rest easy and go back to happily hating you." He laughed shortly and added, "Some people never change..."  
  
"Well now," said Lupin. "Dare I say we get some sleep? It's after midnight!"  
  
"Just a little longer?" said Harry.  
  
"I'm afraid not," said Dumbledore. "Tomorrow we absolutely have to take a visit to the Ministry of Magic. We'll be spending much of the day there. I'll explain in the morning. You will see them again when you are older, I promise."  
  
Dumbledore's word was always final. He acted like a distant father sometimes... and sometimes much to Harry's detestment.  
  
"All right," he said gloomily.  
  
"Why don't they stay the night? Ron?"  
  
"Sure! No problem..."  
  
"Excellent. Please inform Dean, Neville and Seamus?" Ron ran out. Dumbledore moved Ron's bed over with a wave of his wand to make room for the three new beds, two conjured in the space between his and Harry's.  
  
When Seamus, Neville and Dean came in they gave reactions similiar to Ron's. Harry lay between Lily and James while Michelle lay next to James. Sirius lay on one stretching from Harry's out to Ron's. The arragement was very tight but Harry could not ask for more.  
  
For what could have been a few hours, Harry accidently bumped lightly into Lily. It was partly to make sure she was still there and partly on accident but never once did she wake up. She and James were fast asleep like they hadn't slept in days (and truth be told, they hadn't slept in years). 


	14. Harry's Bright Idea

Chapter 14: HARRY'S BRIGHT IDEA  
  
  
Saturday morning, Harry rolled over once more to find the lump he kept bumping into during the night was no longer there. His parents had vanished sometime during his sleep.  
  
Harry thought he would wake up terribly saddened by their absence but quite the contrary happened. A renewed sense of happiness crept over him. Maybe it was the fact that he actually got to talk to them and many of his questions were answered. Maybe it was that the voices haunting his dreams spoke to him, reacted to him and he didn't just have to listen to a script. It could have simply been that he got to look two people in the eye and call them "mom" and "dad."  
  
Whatever the reason, Harry sprang out of bed in great spirits. The extra beds had been removed and the room was now arranged like normal. Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus were gone, apparently having gone to breakfast already. Harry quickly changed but he noticed another interesting sort of cloak hidden under his bed.  
  
His mouth fell open. It was the cloak his dad had been wearing, the same black cloak that shined dimly in light.  
  
There were no notes attached to it, it just sat there. Harry quickly decided to exchange the cloak he had on for this new one. It was a little large, but after a few years it would fit perfect. Harry folded up the ends and made it stay with a Folding Charm he had learned just a few days ago. He made his way through the portrait hole, down the stairs and into the Great Hall. As expected, everyone was already eating.  
  
"Hey, Harry," called Ron as he stepped closer to the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Hey, Ron! Hey, Hermione!"  
  
"You seem a bit cheery this morning," said Hermione as Harry sat down.  
  
"You might say," he said smiling brightly.  
  
"Is that - that your dad's cloak?" Harry tried to stifle a small laugh.  
  
"I found it under my bed. Seems they couldn't go without leaving me something. I thought I'd end up really unhappy, but..."  
  
"All for the better," suggested Hermione. Harry dug into his pancakes.  
  
"So they really want to go through with removing the mark?" said Ron, eggs stuck to his front teeth.  
  
"Oh no!" said Harry. He smacked his forehead with his hand. "I never asked them how to do it!"  
  
"Relax," said Sirius as he rounded the table. "While you were talking to Lily, I asked James about it." Harry wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead. "You know, Lily bought that cloak for James on their first year anniversary. Makes it a little more special." Sirius took a seat across from Harry, who looked like he might start to cry again.  
  
"Don't, you'll get it dirty. It's a pain to clean that thing." The quiver turned into a giggle. "Albus wants to see you after you've finished eating. I guess he wants to tell you why we're going to the Ministry today. Said you may have to give a small speech in front of a few members but don't worry about it just yet, it's just a question and answer type of thing. I guess it's that they want your opinion on what's been happening lately.  
  
"Not everthing is roses either. I hate to have to tell you know but there was another disappearance last night and another murder. The Dark Mark was burned on the grounds near the victim's house and the missing person is thought to have been killed as well. Both of them were members of the Order of the Phoenix."  
  
"Well that just cheers up my morning," said Harry sarcastically. He took a huge sip from his goblet.  
  
"He got here in a happy mood, Sirius," said Michelle. "The least you could do is let him keep it for a while."  
  
"It's all right, Michelle," Harry lied. He just didn't want to start an argument -- that would make it worse.  
  
"B-"  
  
"Really..." Harry went back to eating. Sirius patted him on the shoulder.  
  
"Maybe I should've waited till later..." said Sirius, sounding quite sorry. Normally, Harry would have felt mad. The anger was whisked away by the faces of his parents popping into his head as they had been all night.  
  
"I can't stay mad at anyone today," said Harry laughing airily. "If Malfoy comes over I may just have to hug him too."  
  
"You'll get your chance," said Ron, pointing at Malfoy from behind Harry. "Because he's standing right behind you."  
  
"How come you're always there at the worst moments?" asked Harry, turning around.  
  
"How come you're always there? Thought you'd be dead by now."  
  
"I'm going to let that go because I had a very good time last night. Go back to your bodyguards." Harry returned to eating.  
  
"No," said Malfoy defiantly. "I think I'll stay here and ruin your morning for you." Harry, perfectly calm, made his skin glow a perfect white, bright as the morning sun. He finished chewing and said,  
  
"Want to rethink that?" without turning around. The furious footsteps faded away. "Someone needs to tell him he needs to stop bugging me."  
  
"Not going to happen," started Hermione, "until something bad happens to him..." Harry and Ron sighed.  
  
"Harry," said Michelle, trying to think of what Harry had in mind, "you're not... going to..."  
  
"No," Harry assured her, "no one should have to be without parents."  
  
"You're taking this all extraordinarily well," said Sirius. Michelle must have been offended somehow because she put her fork down, got up, and left...  
  
"I'd like to know what's with her," said Harry as he watched Michelle leave. She looked disgruntled.  
  
"She has been acting a little strange lately," Sirius noted. "Sometimes I'd say 'Hello' to her in the halls during classes and she'd just give me a dumb look and turn away. Other times she just looked at me like I was her mortal enemy. Michelle's not herself." Harry took one last sip from his goblet and put it down.  
  
"Finished. Where's Professor Dumbledore?" asked Harry as he looked at the empty seat up front.  
  
"In his office. Come, I'll take you. We'll be back soon enough. Stay here, Ron, Hermione, you may get to come, too." Their faces lit up.  
  
Sirius and Harry made it up to the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore's office in record time. The door was locked and two people were talking inside. Sirius suggested they wait outside until the two were finished.  
  
"Lily and James?" screeched Moody. "Fell out of the Mirror of Erised?".  
  
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Saw them with my own eyes."  
  
"Wow," said Moody dumbfounded. "Haven't seen that used in decades."  
  
"All for the better. I feel it was great therapy for young Harry. I expect he'll wake up feeling the best in years."  
  
"In that case, we should hurry this up." Harry felt the gaze of Moody's magical eye through the closed door.  
  
"Got some more business to do?"  
  
"No, it's just that he's standing outside with Sirius." Dumbledore opened the door. Lupin as well as Mr. Fudge were standing inside as well.  
  
"Good morning, Harry," said Lupin. "Hello, Sirius."  
  
"Ah, just in time," said Dumbledore. "I see that you found the present James left under your bed?" Harry couldn't help the blood rushing to his cheeks. "I mentioned last night we would be making a trip to the Ministry of Magic. They have quite a bit to talk about concerning Voldemort and yourself."  
  
"About me?"  
  
"Yes, of course. A few panelists want to question you about recent events. It's nothing to fuss about too much. They did lots of questioning fourteen years ago, as well. There was a lot of planning on methods to remove Voldemort from power. None of them, of course, worked. The Ministry was made a bit of a fool when a small boy solved all their problems." Dumbledore broke into a broad grin. Mr. Fudge turned the same color as Harry.  
  
"Come now," said Dumbledore. "Ron and Hermione may come with us. I think someone may want to question them, as well. A friend of mine was very interested in hearing about you take out that young balrog."  
  
The party of six walked back to the Great Hall to pick up Ron and Hermione (to their great surprise). Both of them quickly blurted out they had never been to the offices of the Ministry of Magic. Ron told Harry how many times Percy called it a boring and dull place.  
  
When they arrived, it was nothing of the sort. The minute the golden doors opened in front of them, a vast and huge hallway loomed before them. The carpet was lined with gold trimmings on either end with silver in the middle. Glass casings were spread out every so often holding some kind of magical artifact. One of them looked to be a replica of the Sorcerer's Stone but Dumbledore assured them it was merely a bewitched rock.  
  
The tail feather of a phoenix lay inside one glass casing just outside the door into which they entered. One person inside Harry knew, Arabella Figg. The other, Moody pointed out as Mundungus Fletcher, a frail old wizard who looked to almost rival Dumbledore's age. They were all sitting in chairs. The room was fairly small and light green with a bit of sunlight peering down from the window in the middle of the ceiling. At one end, there were seven chairs with the middle one being raised up slightly, a small stand in front of it with a place to stick papers on top. Dumbledore took the middle seat.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione, all of them nervous, sat on Dumbledore's right. Ron sat straight in the chair, his arms on the rests. Hermione looked like she was looking for a foot rest. Harry sat straight up much like Ron, resting one ankle over the top of the other leg and folded his hands. Harry looked proud and content and subtly like a grown wizard. Every passing day, he sure felt like one. Sirius, Moody and Lupin sat on the other side in similar positions to Ron.  
  
"I trust the boy knows why he is here?" said one wizard in the far back corner.  
  
"Mr. Potter has a name, my dear Vindus," spoke Dumbledore.  
  
"Right, then. This meeting is about You-Know-Who-"  
  
"Call him Voldemort," said Harry calmly. His excellent mood had been slightly torn asunder.  
  
"You-Know-Who," began Vindus, as if Harry never spoke, "has resumed his rampage of killings. Two days ago a wizard was seen sprawled on the floor outside the Leaky Cauldron on the Muggle side. Muggle law-keepers had discovered the body and took it into custody. Arthur stepped in to confiscate the body from a Muggle hospital leaving a memory altering artifact to cover the mess up. Also recently, Mr. Potter took it upon himself to explode the body of Colin Creevey."  
  
Harry turned to look at Dumbledore, who's face became almost alight with fire. He kept his cool and spoke calmly.  
  
"Mr. Potter's actions were involun-"  
  
"And as such, we would like to hear from Mr. Potter, himself."  
  
"Don't fret," Dumbledore whispered in Harry's ear. He stood up and they switched seats. Vindus stood up and walked up to the seven chairs, looking a lot meaner up close.  
  
"Now, Mr. Potter, as you must clearly understand we are only allying ourselves with people we can trust to the absolute fullest." Harry felt like shouting. Why on earth would someone think he would side with Voldemort? Harry had a funny feeling Vindus was related to Mr. Crouch...  
  
"I didn't," said Harry flatly. "Would you like to feel how hard it is to break the Imperius Curse?"  
  
"Such curses are among the Unforgiveables, Mr. Potter. You know that."  
  
"How can you possibly think I would want to kill someone?" asked Harry, trying to understand what was running through this man's mind.  
  
"Harry has a point," piped up an old witch in the corner.  
  
"We need to find out what Voldemort has planned," suggested Harry.  
  
"And how do you propose we do that?" inquired Vindus. Harry's mind raced. He would dearly like to know what Voldemort is doing.  
  
"Well, I... we umm..." Vindus nodded like he expected Harry to not be able to answer.  
  
"Full of thoughts, but not too many answers, I see."  
  
Hermione flared up.  
  
"I'll have you know that he's saved our butts more times than you can imagine!"  
  
"And who might you be?"  
  
"Hermione Granger. Do you not know what Harry has done the past four years?"  
  
"I only know that You-Know-Who is out and has risen to power. I only know that I want him stopped before anyone else dies."  
  
"Is this guy serious?" Ron whispered to Harry.  
  
"I hope not, sounds a lot like Mr. Crouch," Harry whispered back. "Same stubborn attitude."  
  
"Bravery and helpers will not get a fifteen year old anywhere against You-Know-Who-"  
  
"You make it sound like they're my servants," said a disgusted Harry.  
  
"I do suggest you keep your temper, dear Vindus," said Dumbledore cooly. "Have you read today's Daily Prophet?" Dumbledore tossed him a copy from under his cloak.  
  
"Yes, yes..." Vindus mumbled as he skimmed it. "Last night, Harry Potter was responsible for calling the spirits of Lily and James Potter." Harry grinned as Vindus looked up at him. The warm feeling he felt when he first hugged his parents came back. "The only noteworthy event from this family reunion is the decision to remove the mark of ancients from young Harry and sister Michelle." Vindus grabbed his short beard and twirled the end of it. "Sister Michelle?"  
  
"I shall explain later," said Dumbledore.  
  
"Very well, back to the subject at hand. We think You-Know-Who has taken control of the dementors. It is very fortunate, however I still do not condone it, that Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger removed Sirius from Azkaban."  
  
"I decapitated a few of them back in Azkaban..." said Harry.  
  
"You thought you did, Mr. Potter. It's more than likely their heads merely edged off and were reattached. Dementors cannot be killed. You were more than extremely fortunate to have --"  
  
His voice cut off. Harry looked in the direction of Vindus' head to see what could possibly have cut the rude man off. Plain and obvious, it was Sirius who had slipped out of humanity once again. The zombie stared off into dead space and his skin became chaulky white. Harry's face turned a color much the same. Sirius' facial expression was never more disturbing and it matched closely to that of Voldemort himself. He sat motionless and did not respond when Lupin waved a hand over his face. A black mist crept out of his mouth, disappearing quickly.  
  
"The work of dementors, Vindus," said Dumbledore, finally sounding a little angry. "Sirius was caught in the middle of a dementor's kiss when Harry conjured a Patronus in his unconsciousness to scare it off. There is no cure for this. We have no one to blame but Cornelius and yourself. An innocent man is the victim... twice"  
  
"I have nothing more to say," said Harry flatly. His skin began to glitter faintly. "If you're done, I'm leaving." Harry tapped an impatient foot on the floor, slumping back in his seat.  
  
"Such an ungratefu-" started Vindus, but Harry wouldn't hear any more of it. The combined thought of Sirius' condition, his parents and the distrust of Vindus set off fireworks. With a snap of the finger, Harry had Vindus pinned to the ceiling, facing down.  
  
"Call me ungrateful," he said, now mad. He tried to keep his temper out of respect for his mom and dad. "I don't know you and you already don't like me. Thanks, but I'll do this on my own."  
  
"I can't deny," started Dumbledore, looking like he was trying to stifle a laugh, "I expected that to happen. Come, back to Hogwarts." He looked up at Vindus with a straight face and said, "This was a pure waste of time. Nice seeing you again, Vindus." Harry's skin glowed perfect white and the next moment they stood in the entrance hall of Hogwarts.  
  
"What was that all about?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Vindus was friends with Lily Potter during their days at Hogwarts. The two of them were best friends until she met James. He became slightly jealous. You might say he's actually trying to take care of you. The day he found out of their murder he was deeply hurt."  
  
"He has a nice way of showing it," said Harry.  
  
"All the same... come, Minerva will be most uninterested to hear about what Vindus had to say."  
  
They walked over to Professor McGonagall's office. She was not at all surprised to hear the visit to the Ministry of Magic was not at all helpful. While Harry sat with Ron and Hermione in the corner, Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall discussed ways of finding out Voldemort's plans. No one had any good ideas and most everyone walked away feeling upset. Harry walked away feeling discouraged that Voldemort was planning to do something and the thought that he didn't know what terrified him.  
  
That weekend, third years and up were allowed to go to Hogsmeade. Harry made sure to get a full supply of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. He would be eating a lot of them in nervous worry about what was to come. Every year so far, whatever Voldemort had planned would not happen until the end of the school year. This year was likely to be no different.  
  
It was when Harry piped up over butterbeer that true anxiety set in. He, Ron and Hermione were drinking quietly when,  
  
"Is there any way we can really find out what he's up to?" asked Hermione.  
  
"No," said Ron, "not unless you want to go talk to him face to face and ask him nicely."  
  
"Are you two ever going to call him Voldemort?" asked Harry. One witch in front of him fell off her chair. Harry sat up straight in his seat, ignoring it. "I'm going to take you with me next time I see him."  
  
"No you're not," quivered Ron.  
  
"What, like I wanted to see him?" Ron sat silent in his chair. Harry had a good point. Ron put his goblet to his mouth and dribbled some of his drink down his front. He seemed to be more shaky than Harry.  
  
"Do you have any ideas?" asked Hermione.  
  
"No, not really," said Harry quickly, taking another sip.  
  
"That just leaves us dry, doesn't it," said Ron.  
  
"Hey," said Harry, as if in deep thought. "What if someone was to disguise themself as a Death Eater?"  
  
"And?"  
  
"And Apparate to Voldemort?"  
  
"Are you out of your MIND?" said Hermione, giving Harry some more McGonagall eyes.  
  
"He just may be, Hermione," said Ron thoughtfully.  
  
"Out of my mind or not," insisted Harry, "it's the only way I have of knowing what he's up to."  
  
"What if You-Know-Who doesn't want to see you?" asked a stern Hermione. "Besides, who are you going to disguise yourself as? And How?"  
  
"I don't know about the first but I would use Snape and do it with Polyjuice Potion."  
  
"It's just that easy, is it?" said Hermione harshly. "What if he wants to kill Snape? What if he wants to torture him with Cruciatus?"  
  
"Yeah, Harry," said Ron. "She's right." Harry quickly changed positions, now leaning on the table and gulping down the last of his butterbeer. Harry looked up at the door as Mrs. Figg came through it. She found her way directly to them and sat down.  
  
"Hello, Harry!" she said brightly.  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Figg," he replied gloomily.  
  
"Why the long face?" she asked, looking at him like a mother. "Sirius will be just fine..."  
  
"It's not him I'm worried about. Take a guess."  
  
"I dare say, Voldemort's going to be around for a while. Nothing you nor anyone else can do is going to change it. He'll continue killing. Someone will put a stop to him again. You had your victory, leave it to someone else this time."  
  
Harry felt like she just stuck a knife through his heart.  
  
"He killed my parents and he's been trying to kill me. I'm going to stop him if it's the last thing I do."  
  
"I can't deny, I admire your courage, Harry but I have this horrible feeling it's going to be the thing that does you in."  
  
"Let it," he said defiantly. Now it was Mrs. Figg who looked like she had a knife stuck through her heart.  
  
"Well, I'll leave you three be. Stuff I got to do," she said as she got up. "Goodbye!" she cheered back, then waved, then left.  
  
"I'm doing it," said Harry as soon as she was out of earshot. "You two going to help, or not?"  
  
Ron and Hermione did not look enthused at all at the idea but Harry did not leave them with much choice. During their visit to Hogsmeade, they made sure to make a stop in Plentiful Potions to find anything on making Polyjuice Potion any faster.  
  
Hermione dragged Harry and Ron into Books for the Mind. It was in a book aptly titled Polyjuice where they found a recipe for making the potion in twelve hours. Harry was perfectly willing to pay the fifty galleons but the clerk insisted on giving it to him for free...  
  
Back at Hogwarts, they visited Moaning Myrtle's bathroom once again. It's the only safe place to prepare the Polyjuice Potion. The bathroom has been out of order for three years and no one ever decided to step foot inside, lest they be bombarded by Myrtle's moaning. Myrtle herself seemed keen on the idea of Harry putting himself in great danger.  
  
"Sure! Go! And be sure to come back missing an eye and arm!" Hermione shook her head wildly in disgust.  
  
"Ignore her, Harry. You'll be just fine."  
  
In the mean time, Harry needed to catch up on his O.W.L. studies, and to assist, Hermione gave him a study schedule. Most of Harry, Ron and Hermione's free time was spent with their heads buried in books. Not even Malfoy distracted them when they had their books out during lunch and breakfast.  
  
Great Riots of the Goblins, Fleeting Furors of Fiends and the occasional talk about what would you do if you had your own house elf were common conversations during breakfast and lunch Monday and Tuesday. Harry had almost thought they finished the first schedule when Hermione promptly threw another one in their faces Wednesday morning. The horrendous studying took Harry's mind off recent events. He didn't, however, forget his parents.  
  
Paladism had become better and better. They were learning how to create clouds of healing rain (ideal for making yourself feel perkier, great during early morning Quidditch practice), mend bones (something Harry wish he knew back in his second year), heal cuts and best of all, how to reattach severed limbs. This last bit was tricky business, Dumbledore added.  
  
During a demonstration, he chopped a limb of a small tree off and everyone tried to reattach it with a swish and flick of their wand. No one, not even Harry, skin glowing blinding white, could make it happen. With a quick flick of his own wand, Professor Dumbledore made it look as easy as they had now found the levitation charm. Neville tried hovering the branch in place, but his plan faltered when he sneezed and the branch shot right at Dumbledore's hand. He then asked if anyone would like to try to reattach his finger... Dumbledore took ten points from Gryffindor for this but Neville didn't say anything -- he felt he deserved it.  
  
Harry felt very good about getting the upcoming Saturday's events off his mind but a stinging reminder came in the form of Professor Snape.  
  
"We still have to get a piece of him, you know," Ron reminded Hermione as they snuck in a few minutes late.  
  
Harry was the only one who saw that Snape noticed their late arrival, other students had been already busy burying their heads in a potion. Dare he ask himself why Snape didn't take points away from Gryffindor?  
  
"I'm sure there's some of his hair laying around his desk," Hermione whispered as she dipped fingernails of a balrog into a smelly helper-potion, then dropping it into her own... followed by a huge explosion cracking the bottom of her cauldron.  
  
"I expect better from you, Miss Granger," snarled Snape as he leaned his head over her desk, peering down. "Fifteen points." It seemed he was waiting for them to do something so he could take extra points off for them being late, as well. He threw Hermione a humongous towel and just said, "Clean."  
  
"I'm so stupid," she said more to herself than to either Harry or Ron. "How could I forget to add the artery of anaconda first?"  
  
"Honestly," said Ron, eyeing up the huge pile of thin, grotesque red tubes on top of Snape's desk, "if these ingredients get any worse, I'm going home." Hermione quickly reminded him that this potion was supposed to melt skin and they would be testing it on rats next class.  
  
Harry grabbed a handful of them and dropped it between himself and Neville who, surprisingly, looked like he actually finished the potion on his own. It was a personal victory for him, as he emptied the gook into a vial his grandmother had sent him shaped in a capital letter 'N.' A small tube crossed from left to right along the bottom (connecting the bottom) and the entire thing was so strong that even after Neville dropped it several times, followed by Snape smashing it against a wall, it did not break.  
  
Only Harry thought Neville had messed it up and would be waiting for next class to see what happens. He suggested to Ron the rat might grow feathers.  
  
When class was almost over and Ron finally screwed up enough stomach to grab and cut some arteries, Hermione saw an unmistakable piece of oily, black hair on top of her desk. She quickly snatched it and shoved it in her bag, a look of triumph on her face.  
  
The bell rang. Neville looked happy. Harry tried to hide what he was thinking as he giggled out the door to himself.  
  
"We have all the ingredients?" he asked Hermione when they made their way back into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to check up on the cauldron.  
  
"Yes," she said confidently. But to their utter shock, she screamed, "THE CAULDRON'S GONE!"  
  
"What?" said Harry, who had been lazily trailing behind her. He ran into the stall where they hid the cauldron. The toilet had been ripped out, leaving a perfect spot for something like a cauldron  
  
"Hello!" cheered Myrtle exuberantly as she came up out of the very next stall, bright eyed and happy. To see Myrtle in such a mood must also mean Voldemort had begun handing out Valentine cards. "Michelle took it, she did! Said she refuses to see you go off and get yourself killed. Gone to tell Dumbledore, I think." Myrtle's face smiled brightly, a glowing sense of spite. "Said some nasty things about you, too!"  
  
"Come on," said Harry, roughly grabbing the sleeves of Ron and Hermione's cloaks. He threw the Invisibility Cloak over the three of them and ran like lightning back up to the Gryffindor common room. It was lunch time and he would get to corner Michelle. He tucked the cloak deep inside his trunk, closed it tight and half ran to the Great Hall.  
  
Michelle was talking to Moody and Lupin up at the staff table when Harry dashed behind her. He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her off (to the great surprise of both Moody and Lupin).  
  
"What?" she said annoyed.  
  
"You took it," he barked.  
  
"Took what?" she said innocently.  
  
"The cauldron! You took the Polyjuice cauldron!" Her face did a one-eighty as she clearly just remembered what Harry was talking about.  
  
"Yes," she replied harshly back, "I took it. You aren't going. I found out because I've been using foresight on you at least once a day. Have to know what you're up to, but no, I won't tell anyone."  
  
"Yes, I am going and you can't stop me."  
  
"Harry-" she started to say, but he dashed out of the Great Hall in a mad rush. He had no idea where she might be hiding the cauldron but at the moment he really didn't care.  
  
His first instinct was to barge into the girl's dormitory, thinking she might be staying with Hermione and his first guess was right. The cauldron sat under a bed next to what had to be Hermione's... it had the most books piled on top of it. He snatched it and dashed back to his trunk to pull out the Invisbility Cloak but someone had beaten him to his room.  
  
"Drop it," said Michelle coldly, standing by the window holding Hedwig's cage out of it.  
  
Harry felt his stomach slip a few notches. "You can't be serious," he said desperately, almost pleading.  
  
"You run off with that cauldron and Hedwig dies," she replied. Harry's breath became heavy and an expression of shock creeped its way to his face. He stood stuck, thinking, racing for thoughts but nothing came to mind. He clutched the bubbling cauldron tighter under his arm during the minute of silence hoping for an out.  
  
"Hedwig," started Michelle, "or - Hermione!"  
  
"What are you doing?" said Hermione eyeing Michelle.  
  
"Harry's not doing this," she replied sternly. Hedwig fluttered in her cage, staring down her captor like an eagle. Hermione nudged Harry in the back, apparently trying to give him a clue. He eyed up Hedwig's cage... there was nothing out of the ordinary. She poked him once more and still saw nothing, but the next moment...  
  
"SHE DROPPED HEDWIG!" screehed Harry as Hermione pulled so hard on his hood, she nearly ripped it off. Harry's legs nearly tripped and the potion dribbled over the top as he almost spilled it. Michelle dashed after them, but Hermione yelled,  
  
"Compingus!" at the door. Michelle could be heard banging on the other side, it had been magically locked.  
  
"She's going to trash the room!" pleaded Harry.  
  
Hermione pulled out the invisibility cloak from under her own cloak and said, "Cover yourself."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Shh!"  
  
Hermione tugged Harry all the way to the Great Hall and tapped Ron on the shoulder. He looked to have been expecting this, stood up, excused himself and walked quietly out, Hermione's hand on his shoulder. Hermione and Harry followed Ron silently to the boy's bathroom where Ron joined them under the cloak.  
  
"Have you two been planning this?" asked Harry, glancing back and forth between them.  
  
"She has," said Ron, a finger pointing at Hermione, who turned reddish.  
  
"I've been watching Michelle ever since she stormed out on us," she said as they proceeded to Myrtle's bathroom. "I thought she might have known, so I made sure to loosen Hedwig's cage door. It sprung open the minute the cage fell, I saw it."  
  
"You're a lifesaver, Hermione," said Harry, finally receeding his heavy breath. He gave her a quick thank-you hug after they set the cauldron down again. "But what's stopping her from taking it again?" Hermione grinned broadly.  
  
"The Secret Keeper charm. She'll come in here and see nothing. But, you have to do it because we don't have a prayer." Harry nodded. "Point your wand at the cauldron and say 'Fidelius.'"  
  
Harry's skin glowed perfectly white and he proceeded. "Fidelius," he said, wand pointed at the cauldron. The tip of his wand glowed red and a short beam of light hit the cauldron, bouncing directly back at his wand, sticking to it. "W-what is this?" The wand then let off a violent charge of lightning, causing Harry's wand to shake just the same.  
  
"Now point it at me and say 'Celaro.'" Harry moved his wand ever so slightly to point at Hermione.  
  
"Celaro!" The lightning stopped and the red light fully shot off the tip of the wand (his skin flickered as if this was hard work for it) and then quickly vanished when touching Hermione.  
  
"That's it. Only we will know where it is and anyone we tell. Everyone else will just see the floor and if they step on it, it will be like it's not there."  
  
"You two are the best," said Harry.  
  
"You'll be okay, Harry," said Hermione, practically in tears.  
  
"Just don't do anything stupid," cautioned Ron.  
  
Later that day, Michelle had indeed trashed Harry's room but had knocked herself out in the process. With a memory charm performed adeptly by Harry, Michelle's memory of the cauldron was erased. It would leave them with enough time for her to rethink of using foresight on Harry.  
  
Friday afternoon the potion was ready. Harry caught foresight with Snape the entire day waiting for him to complain about the Dark Mark burning on his arm. During dinner time, Snape left his chair to go speak to Dumbledore. It was the Dark Mark.  
  
"Hermione..." said Harry, stuffing the last of his porkchops into his mouth, wiping his chin with a napkin and setting down his goblet. He pointed at Snape and she nodded.  
  
The two of them retreated with Ron to Harry and Ron's dormitory, picked up the invisibility cloak, threw it over themselves and made their way towards Moaning Myrtle's...  
  
"I'll catch foresight with both of you as often as I have a moment alone," said Harry. "If you hear me talking, you aren't going insane. Here, I'll show you."  
  
Harry closed his eyes and spoke in his mind only.  
  
"Don't jump," he said.  
  
"That's really weird..." she replied outloud.  
  
"Now you know what to expect..." - he opened his eyes - "and good, Snape is still feeling the Dark Mark. I better get going, can stop at any moment." With that word, Hermione dumped a hair of Snape into the bubbling cauldron, causing it to pop and fizz. She drained it into a goblet for Harry to drink. He stepped into the bathroom stall, removing the majority of his clothing and putting on the magically stretched clothing Hermione had prepared, topping it off with an extra large black cloak that looked remarkably like the real thing.  
  
His very skin felt like it had become hot wax, bubbling slightly. A feeling in his stomach like snakes slithering all over made him feel all too sick, landing on all fours. Harry didn't remember it being so bad last time... His body painfully elongated and his hair became thin, long and oily. The scar on his head disappeared to be replaced by a more foul one on his arm. After it all stopped, he stood up wearily and stuffed his glasses into a pocket inside his new cloak. After assuring himself he looked faithfully like Snape in the mirror, Harry took a deep breath and stepped out of the stall.  
  
"Before you go, Harry, do me one favor?" asked Ron.  
  
"What..." said Snape's voice in a low drone.  
  
"Smile cheerfully." The face of Snape contorted into a shape never before seen. Ron howled in laughter and Harry Disapparated.  
  
In his wake, stood a crowd of Death Eaters, Muggles... and Voldemort. 


	15. Ancient At Work

Chapter 15: ANCIENT AT WORK  
  
  
"Welcome back, Severus!" shouted Voldemort. The face was still the same that haunted Harry's dreams all year long. Voldemort made his way to Harry through a bunch of dead bodies Harry could only presume were dead Muggles. They were in a forest, trees dense as the forest near Hogwarts, but a far deeper, almost unnatural green. The very bushes seemed to be alive. It looked very much like the forest Ron and him had gotten lost in. Harry copied the stance the other Death Eaters held and put his hands in the opposite sleeve.  
  
"I was wondering whether you had forgotten about your promise to me!" said Voldemort, now at arm's length.  
  
"I-I'm sorry master, what promise?" said Harry. He was almost sure that was not the question to ask but to his relief, Voldemort broke into sudden laughter. Thankfully, there was no scar to cause him pain.  
  
"Surely you cannot forget, my dear Severus!" He turned around and held his hands behind his back. "You promised me, Severus... you promised..." Voldemort turned around and put his psychotic face so close to Harry's he could feel the heat. "You're joking with me," he whispered coldly in Harry's ear. "Don't test my patience. I've already been without you for years. I thought you had nearly forgotten me."  
  
"Master," piped up the voice of Lucius Malfoy, "may I suggest... punishment?" Harry tried to hide the tremble that erupted from his legs. Voldemort drew closer to Lucius.  
  
"Not today, Lucius..." droned Voldemort. His tone became almost happy as he continued speaking. "Severus has his uses, afterall he promised to keep the Potter boy alive during Hogwarts unless it was my action to kill him. He failed, however, to get Potter expelled from Hogwarts on many occasions..." Voldemort turned his attention once again to Harry. "Didn't you, Severus? DIDN'T YOU!"  
  
The maddening voice ringed in Harry's ears.  
  
"But I digress," he continued, stepping away from Harry and softening his tone. "But let it be known Severus, if I wanted to cast Cruciatus on someone right now, rest assured it would be yourself."  
  
"Master," said Lucius again, "what are we to do with the Muggles? And Potter?"  
  
"The Muggles? I have no use, you can go ahead and kill the rest of them." He pointed at something behind Harry, who turned and nearly screamed in horror. Several dozen Muggles were tied up in vines attached to trees, some bleeding, some already looking dead.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" barked Wormtail. One Muggle fell limp where she hung.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" came a voice to Harry's left. He didn't recognize it, but he watched in horror as a Muggle, a child, slipped out of the ropes to the muddy floor beneath him.  
  
There were several more shouts of the Killing Curse before Voldemort rounded on Harry again.  
  
"Not going to kill any today, Severus?"  
  
"Master, I am sorry," said Harry, thinking madly to speed up what he was to do here.  
  
"No need to be sorry," replied Voldemort. "CRUCIO!" he thundered. Harry winced automatically but Voldemort had his wand pointed at a particularly old and frail Muggle. He and the rest of them enjoyed in senseless torture and mass murders for fun. Harry racked his brains. The sooner he could get his questions answered and get out the better. He would have to deal with Snape at a later time and he figured that would be just as dangerous a situation ("YOU WHAT?").  
  
"M-master," stuttered Harry, "what of Harry Potter?"  
  
"You don't sound like your usual self, Severus but the boy has been kept in the dark, I hope? We will be raiding Hogwarts with dementors. The damned gamekeeper has spoken to other giants before I could have and as a result, they side with Albus. As for the mark of ancients, Severus, it is of little concern. My faithful spy is doing the job very well. Very powerful, that one. The boy will die, I have his protection and we will be in the clear.  
  
"Now, if you don't kill at least one Muggle I will surmise that you are Harry himself in disguise!" His laugh filled the forest, cold and calculating, venomous and maddening. Harry flinched as if the scar were still on his forehead.  
  
He muttered under his breath, his skin glittering out of sight of anyone, "Fides in flamma, fides in ipse. Accio caeles intus venia. Ambio iaculor in comae exsuscito ad aborior absolvere." A Muggle burst into a white light, screaming in agony. The light faded and the Muggle was still alive.  
  
"Light of Faith only works on Dark wizards," said Voldemort, "you know that."  
  
"I was just playing, master."  
  
"Kill him." Harry would rather not, but there's not much choice. He held his wand at arm's length and closed his eyes so he didn't have to look.  
  
"Avada Kedavra," he muttered, shaking. The green light shot out of his wand, the mark glittering softly on his hidden hand. It zoomed towards one screaming man who fell limp upon contact. Harry turned away and reopened his eyes.  
  
The Death Eaters were having a grand old time cursing and torturing the Muggles. Harry took part, but only used small and painless curses he knew, such as small boils and swelling hexes.  
  
"Excellent," said some voice a minute later, the venomous, bone-chilling voice of the basilisk... here? Harry whipped his head in the direction of it and saw Voldemort talking to his snake, Nagini. There was a human head sticking out of it's mouth. Thoroughly disgusted, Harry turned away, nearly losing what he had of dinner.  
  
Over the next half hour, the Death Eaters killed what had to be thirty Muggles, but there were at least twenty more, all tied and bound, helpless against magic.  
  
"Those Mudbloods will die!" roared Voldemort as the snake finished the rest of it's snack. Wheeling around again, suddenly, a strange feeling coming from Harry's fingers revealed his nails had shrunk. He panicked. The potion was wearing off already. Get the Muggles out, he thought desperately. Sweat trickled down Snape's forehead down to the end of his long twisted nose. Any minute the rest of his body would follow. Voldemort had not said when he will be coming. Dare Harry stay longer? He wanted to find out... and bring the Muggles to safety, so he put his hands up his sleeves.  
  
"Severus," called Crabbe as he inched towards Harry, "what kept you at Hogwarts?" Harry forced a wicked grin, on the likes of which he has seen Snape do. The lame attempt pleased the slow Mr. Crabbe.  
  
"Dumbledore," said Harry shortly. "Had to convince him I was... no longer with master." Crabbe let out a weak snigger and so did Harry. Harry turned away to take part in the Muggles again but,  
  
"Severus!" shrieked a frightened Crabbe. Harry turned around. Crabbe looked at Harry as if he had sprouted a horn and then Harry found out. "MY LORD!" he thundered, "IT'S POTTER!"  
  
Harry stumbled backwards, feeling his skin and bones shrink. He made a mad dash towards the Muggles but fell on all fours, splashing mud as the potion wore off. His frame painfully twisted and contorted back into the shape of his fifteen year old body, arms shrinking, legs thinning, hair becoming untidy and less oily. The scar on his arm disappeared, to be replaced by one on his forehead which wasted no time in causing him to howl in more pain. Snape's fake cloak felt more like a blanket now.  
  
"Such a valiant attempt," Harry heard Voldemort say loudly, still hunched over on his hands and knees. His mad laughing made the scar throb more and more. "Trying to discover my plans..." He bent down to Nagini and whispered something to the snake, knowing Harry couldn't move for fear.  
  
The snake slithered it's way towards Harry, mouth open so wide it could swallow Hagrid whole and Hagrid was almost as wide as Harry was tall. Harry inched an arm forward along the muddy ground. It wasn't rain that turned the dirt into mud, it was blood. The stench would have cracked his nose if it wasn't already full with the naturally foul smell of the forest. He stared at the snake, trying to tell it to go back, but it was too faithful to the other Parselmouth.  
  
He lifted a knee and pushed it forward, inching towards the Muggles. The Death Eaters began to surround him, laughing. The snake picked up it's pace, as did Harry, still crawling on the mud, as fast as his arms let him. He half stood up and the snake moved faster and faster.  
  
The tip of it's mouth was at reach of Harry's leg when he jerked his leg forward. His hand reached a pair of Muggles.  
  
"Grab onto each other," he muttered. The snake lashed out at Harry's extended foot but missed. It had giant fangs, much like the basilisk, more than likely put there by Voldemort. The man in front of him laid frightened eyes upon him. "Do it!" shouted Harry. The Muggle grabbed onto the woman next to him. The rest of them followed.  
  
Nagini lashed out again, this time at Harry's other leg, ripping the shoe right off him. His foot landed in a damp, soggy puddle. Ignoring the squishy and disgusting stuff now soaking his sock, he tried to stand up...  
  
Nagini sunk a fang right into Harry's thigh. Searing venom coursed through the leg, it felt like it might fall off. The snake's hold grew tighter and his own warm blood gushed out of the huge gash. Nagini tugged, very hard, causing a terrible tearing sound and loads more pain. Harry gaped down, wailing, to see the snake had actually torn his leg off. The bloody stump smited it's owner.  
  
He would have fainted but he turned to look at the dozen people just ahead of him, the Death Eaters surrounding him and with a last breath of faith, Harry flipped on his back and said "Accio..." pointing his wand at the snake. The leg came flying out of it's mouth and with a white, sun-bright glow of his skin, he found himself back in his dormitory at Hogwarts, bleeding, crying and in horrendous pain, clutching his severed leg.  
  
Professor McGonagall yelled; Cho, Ron, Lupin and Hermione ran over to him. His mouth opened to say, "I know what Voldemort is doing," faintly before his slightly raised head fell heavy onto the floor.  
  
"My goodness," shrieked McGonagall, peering over Harry, who had now just woken up, "what happened? Where were you? Gone for over an hour, no one could find you!"  
  
Harry's head felt foggy and stuffy, like it had been filled with some of the mud he was currently covered in.  
  
"And," droned Snape, "what are you doing dressed in clothing much like myself?" Harry looked around, he was laying in the same room on his back with his leg now reattached and all of the pain gone, covered from head to stinging toe in gook. He felt a lot better than he did just before passing out, like he could talk freely about it. Dumbledore waved his wand, cleaning off all the goo in the blink of an eye. Harry couldn't bring himself to talk to Snape about what Voldemort had said, so instead he stood up, swayed, balanced himself and said,  
  
"Voldemort plans to come here with dementors." He propped himself up on his arms and looked around at the looks on everyone's faces. "What," he said flatly, "you think im lieing? Voldemort said something about a spy here, said the job was going well. I took Polyjuice Potion to disguise myself as Snape." At that last sentence, Snape's suspicious expression turned into a light, yet unmistakable look of guilt. "You better look sorry," said Harry, now standing up. Snape's expression turned even more guilty.  
  
"Voldemort said you made a promise to him," Harry said, staring directly at Snape, not blinking. Snape sighed. Harry had caught him in something.  
  
"I promised Voldemort to get you to him before I left his ranks," blurted Snape softly, but quickly. "It was merely a lie... so I could get out with my own skin-"  
  
"I almost lost some of mine," said Harry, louder than he intended and pointing at his leg, "thank you very much. Voldemort's snake, Nagini, did it." Any moment, he expected Dumbledore to say something to the effect of "You need to stop putting yourself in danger, you'll get yourself killed."  
  
"You didn't talk to us," said Hermione, half shouting. She dashed over, Cho at her side. Harry's stomach twisted. It was awkward enough back under the mistletoe, but now the entire room was full of people. Cho wouldn't get mushy, would she? He half wanted her to do something other than stare at him. But the raining inside his head stopped and the fog cleared as he thought about what Hermione said.  
  
"I forgot," he said, stopping open-mouthed. He had cleanly forgotten from the moment he arrived to catch foresight with Hermione or Ron. For a moment, it looked like Hermione would hug him, but instead she resorted to pounding his chest and shoulders with closed fists. It didn't hurt much, she seemed to be quite drained. After another moment, she stopped, gripping his shoulders and burying her head somewhere in between.  
  
Harry had not much choice other than to wrap his own arms around around her. If Cho cared at all, she had a strange way of hiding it. Was she too embarassed? Too shy? He patted Hermione on the back and glanced over to Cho. During a fleeting moment, she wasn't just looking at him, she was looking straight into his eyes. Hermione let go and toppled over onto a chair.  
  
"Harry..." said Dumbledore, finally stepping away from his spot next to Professor McGonagall but Harry interrupted him, taking a seat next to Cho on Seamus' bed (it was the only spot left free).  
  
"I don't know when he's coming. The Potion wore off and Crabbe's father noticed me. They had been torturing a bunch of Muggles..." He also cleanly forgot about them. Where were they? "I thought... that I Disapparated with them."  
  
"They are somewhere safe, I am sure," assured Dumbledore, amazingly still calm. "I am fully sure, Harry, that you have used the mark for what you were waiting to do and now is the time to remove it so Voldemort cannot control you."  
  
"No," piped up Michelle. "Why not wait a little longer?"  
  
"For what reason?"  
  
"W-well... wouldn't be it wise for him to have it when Voldemort arrives? We could all very well be considered dead now with nothing to help us. The dementors, Albus..."  
  
"I think it wise to not wait. There's no telling how close Voldemort is to completing a permanent Imperius." He rounded on Harry. "You've been hearing it."  
  
"Hearing what?" replied Harry.  
  
"The Parseltongue voice." Harry's face screwed up in horror, realizing that Dumbledore was speaking of Voldemort's voice in Harry's head. "If the controller can speak to the bearer of the mark of ancients, they are dangerously close to a full Imperius. Harry, it cannot be risked. Another person's mark is controlled through foresight. As easily as one can talk to you, they can control their mark." Dumbledore took on a slightly more serious face.  
  
"Do you know, Harry," he continued, "what those dreams were all about this summer? Voldemort thought he could drive you insane. He almost did. You couldn't tell dream from reality for a good month."  
  
"WHO CARES!" roared the voice in Harry's head. He echoed it back to everyone else. "WHO CARES!" He waved his arm and everyone was forced by an invisible hand out of the door. "I'm tired," he then said, as if nothing happened, "and am going to sleep."  
  
As far as he knew, he never repeated what the voice said and everyone left on their own. It was only eight o' clock but Harry did as he said he would. He didn't stay asleep long. It was still dark out and the moon was still shining brightly. Harry's eyes gradually opened.  
  
After taking several minutes to decide he couldn't sleep, he put his glasses on and sat up, slightly dazed. Don't wake Seamus, Ron or Dean (who must have snuck back in) he told himself.  
  
"Why do you bother?" the voice asked him. Harry's skin glittered smoky-quartz black, as dark as the night sky. He shifted uneasily.  
  
"Because you killed my parents," he replied in a whisper. Would it reply? Hedwig flapped in her cage. Harry, not having any better ideas at the moment, stepped out of bed, walked over to the window and opened the cage. Hedwig perched herself on his shoulder.  
  
"You couldn't sleep either?" he asked, sitting back on the bed. Hedwig hooted in agreement. Harry watched as she lifted a wing and ran the feathers through her beak to clean them. After a minute, she finished then lifted a leg and stood like a Pelican for a second. She turned sideways and stretched her leg out, pulling her wing out with it.  
  
Harry stretched his legs too as Hedwig turned to the other aside, accidently slapping him with her tail. She hooted, he yawned and she fluttered onto his outstretched arm. Harry laid down once again and Hedwig plopped down next to his pillow. He stared up at the ceiling dreamily, thinking of what life would have been like had none of this ever happened, what life would have been like with his parents...  
  
"I wish you could talk sometimes," he thought to himself, staring at Hedwig. She flew off the bed back to her cage, took a sip of water, a bite of food and rested her head on a wing. "Owls have the easy life," he then said, more to himself than anyone.  
  
The glitter on his skin faded away. Harry closed his eyes and flopped over on his stomach, digging his head into the pillows. Go to sleep, he said to himself. A second later, it worked. 


	16. Motum Cicatrix

Chapter 16: MOTUM CICATRIX  
  
  
"Rise and shine, sun shine." Bleary eyed, Harry saw someone standing over him.  
  
"Cho!" Harry flung the covers off himself nervously and jumped up. "I," started Harry with no idea what he was going to say, "that is, umm-"  
  
"I.. I came to tell you a few things," she said. Harry turned a nice, fairly faded, shade of velvet. Cho walked over to Hedwig's cage by the window. Harry stood his ground next to the bed, looking rather helpless and embarassed. "All last year and summer I blamed you for Cedric. Woo, Harry Potter!" she continued in a raised, immitating voice. "The boy who stopped You-Know-Who, but he also had Cedric Diggory killed." She giggled shortly and nervously. "I realized how dumb the idea was last night."  
  
"Tell her to go away," said the voice in Harry's head, "what do you want with a girl?" Harry tried his best to ignore acting upon it. He felt a strong urge to do as it requested.  
  
"I was flattered by you asking me to the Yule Ball last year," she said, "but Cedric had asked me first. Almost felt like telling him something came up..."  
  
"I was just happy you didn't laugh," Harry replied, still shaking. The butterflies, bigger than usual, filled his stomach. "I had to find enough gut to ask Parvati and her sister for Ron and I."  
  
"I thought it was cute." She giggled again. "What'd you say? 'Wangoballwime?'" Harry's velvet face became a deep shade of red.  
  
"I really, REALLY didn't want to ask," said Harry. "I thought giggling should be made illegal. Before I asked, my insides had snakes, and after, the snakes had lunch and left nothing."  
  
"It was awkward," said Cho.  
  
"My insides felt like lead when I was walking away," said Harry.  
  
"I felt bad turning you down-" started Cho...  
  
"Couldn't think about much that night-" Harry started...  
  
"-and then I was talking to Cedric in our commons later-"  
  
"-and I found out Ron asked Fleur but she turned him down-"  
  
"-he liked you a lot, was angry at his dad for always trying to show you up-"  
  
"-so I found myself asking Parvati for me and her sister for Ron-"  
  
"-said he wouldn't mind if I danced with you if you hadn't had anyone-"  
  
"-and I was just hoping her nose was straight-"  
  
"-but I didn't ask you about it because I saw you had someone-"  
  
"-thankfully it was..."  
  
"-and I just... just didn't want to, but I also did want to."  
  
"It was terrible," they both said together. Harry was talking more to himself than to Cho, much like she was doing. The two of them jumped at having said the same thing at the same time and stared blankly at each other.  
  
"I better go," Cho suggested.  
  
"Yes," said the voice in Harry's head. His mouth contorted into "yes" but the word "No" was what slipped out at the last second. "You don't actually like her, do you?"  
  
"Why would you say that?" something else said in the back of his head. "Three's a crowd," Harry thought to himself, "would you voices stop talking to me?"  
  
"Get her out of here, so what if she likes you?"  
  
"Cho," started Harry, again having no idea what he was going to say.  
  
"OUT!" the bad voice barked.  
  
"Out," stated Harry sharply. Cho hopped off the ledge and started towards the door. Harry shook his head madly trying to shake it off; he didn't want to say that so he tried to correct it. "No, wait... I meant to say... our... us..." he said, standing up and advancing towards Cho. She stopped. He wanted her to stay but he knew Voldemort was trying to make him force her out. The thought of a full and permanent Imperius grazed his mind quickly and the quick moment it stayed was torture. His insides became stone cold and a small tingle entered his scar -- Voldemort was enthused at the chaos that he might be able to cause. Sudden sadness passed over him.  
  
"Don't go," he said. It sounded desperate and weak. His legs felt like jelly and he could see a look in Cho's face like she wanted to run. Could she not tell he needed someone right now? Harry walked forward but collapsed on the floor next to his trunk. His back foot slipped and he landed painfully on his elbows.  
  
"Nevermind," he said. For the first time, he agreed the mark of ancients has to be removed. "Out," he said flatly. Cho left without a second look.  
  
Harry leaned up against his trunk, his legs sprawled all over, a hand on his forehead, resenting what he just said. After lunch, since he was too tired at the moment to mention it, he would tell Dumbledore what he wanted done. The nightmare would be over, the black glow would no longer bother him and Voldemort had no chance to control him.  
  
The only catch, he reminded himself, was that Voldemort was clearly more powerful than him without it. He almost considered Michelle's input, that he should wait until he met Voldemort, face to face, prepared, and won. At least then he could kill Voldemort and be done with it but at this rate it looked like Voldemort would get him first. Dumbledore was right. He should have it removed as soon as possible.  
  
Harry's scar erupted in pain. He heard Voldemort's laugh inside his head. It was like Nagini's fangs had burrowed into his forehead and exiting the back of his head, thrashing about wildly. The first squirm sent his head crashing on the ground. He reeled his head back just in time for a second, where his back spasmed and he banged his head on the trunk's edge, feeling blood trickle from where it hit. Harry tried standing up and managed, stumbling his way towards the door, not having any idea of where to go or what to do, the pain clouding his mind. Halfway out, Cho came running back.  
  
"Harry!" she shrieked. She set him down on the floor, bent down, pulled out her wand and shouted "Petrificus Totalus!" Harry stopped moving at once. She then pulled out a small vial from inside her robes and tipped it over Harry's mouth. The pain stopped and the body bind was removed. Harry looked up at Cho, stunned.  
  
"Thanks?" said Harry. He didn't know whether to keep the look on his face or to smile. Cho's face turned into a smile so he compromised and gave a look of relief.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore gave me and Hermione a strong pain killing potion. Professor Snape made it." She paused for a minute and it was another awkward moment. They stared at each other. Harry didn't have many fine moments with her but he still did like the talks and kept telling himself not to be shy but shy he was, regardless.  
  
"Come on," Cho said, offering him her hand, "we're late for breakfast." Harry grabbed her hand and pulled hard, standing himself upright. She did something Harry didn't expect, she kissed him on the cheek. It was quite a bit more than Harry could have hoped for, being with, in his opinion, the prettiest girl at Hogwarts. The two of them walked side by side to the Great Hall which was bustling with the usual loud chatter.  
  
Breakfast this fine Saturday morning was as normal as could be. Normal except the fact that Cho took a seat next to Harry, who still felt oddly excited around her. Fred and George were sniggering the entire time. Harry suspected they were thinking of jokes for lunch time and simply ignored them. The conversation with Michelle, Ron, Hermione and Cho was much more interesting. Besides, Fred and George were in deep conversation with Lee and Seamus, apparently too into it to speak to Harry...  
  
"So the voice is Voldemort, eh?" asked Hermione. Harry wished he could hear that again. "What?" she said, looking at Harry.  
  
"The name!" he said excitedly. "You said the name! About time, I was starting to feel lonely." Harry grinned broadly at Hermione, who turned slightly red.  
  
"You've been saying it so often lately, and I asked myself 'What's the point?' I mean, really..."  
  
"That's what Professor Dumbledore told me when I woke up in the hospital wing our first year. I never found a reason to call him You-Know-Who. Met him so many times, I just want it to be over with."  
  
"Does anyone know what caused that curse to rebound?" asked Cho. She took an inquiring sip from her goblet, eyes fixed on Harry.  
  
"Everyone's just as confused as Voldemort is," said Ron, winking, helping himself to another jam doughnut.  
  
"Don't you ever get scared, Harry?"  
  
"Every - single - time," said Harry a little more angrily than he wanted. "And I keep doing it." He stuffed an entire piece of french toast in his mouth and viciously tore it in two as if it were a chicken leg.  
  
"It's not all bad, is it?" said Michelle. "I mean, you're so bloody popular."  
  
"Honestly," started Harry, the act of tearing at his food having calmed him down, "that part of it bothers me."  
  
"Why?" said Cho. "I mean..." Harry put the toast down and turned to Cho thoughtfully but Hermione spoke first.  
  
"Cho, dear," she said in a honey-have-I-got-something-to-tell-you sort of voice, "would you-"  
  
"Nah," interrupted Harry, grinning, "I guess it doesn't bother me as much as it used to. Our first year really freaked me out." He laughed heartily and stuffed the entire second half of the french toast in his mouth. "Say, Ron," he continued, still chewing, "when's our next practice?" The dull look on Ron's face was immmediately replaced by one of unbridled joy.  
  
"Madam Hooch said we could have the field right after breakfast," he said trying to chew down his food as fast as possible. "Snape somehow convinced her we don't need as much practice as Slytherin..." Ron swallowed. "I wonder what curse he threatened to use?" he added nastily.  
  
"Good," said Harry. "Need something to take my mind off yesterday. Wood had us going so hard all the time that I didn't have any time left for worrying, it was great." Harry half-wished Ron would take up the same grueling practice schedule Oliver Wood had the team on. Sweat, rain, mud, sweltering heat or arctic winds, Harry loved how it took his mind off... other things.  
  
"It's supposed to drizzle," - and Harry grinned, ah, good old times - "but there won't be much wind."  
  
"Can I come watch?" asked Cho eagerly.  
  
"Sure," replied Harry. He asked himelf quickly if he should try to show off or just play like normal. Harry felt a slight lurch in the region of his stomach that he didn't think had anything to do with nerves as he walked out onto the field in his Quidditch robes a few minutes later.  
  
Practice could not be more welcome and it felt great getting back into the air. A light breeze blowed refreshingly in his face and the rain left his robes, while slightly wet, refreshing and cool to the touch. Ron would make an attempt to have them train hard and any way to keep himself cool was welcome. The feel of the wind and the light rain took away some of the stress Harry built up in the past few days.  
  
During one particular dive, in which the rain felt like nails and the wind was like a tornado, Hermione and Cho could be heard screaming "HARRY WATCH OUT!" He would have slammed hard into the ground but the Dragonback had a mind of it's own and straightened out at the last second. Harry had a feeling, with the broom capable of going so fast, it might have something to prevent him from being plastered on walls. The Firebolt had a breaking charm but Harry never got to use it. He glided past Cho and Hermione stunned faces, sniggering.  
  
"Hey," said Harry to Ron as their practiced finished after a full two hours, stuffing their now-soaked Quidditch robes away, "I'm thinking of asking Dumbledore now." Ron's face was suddenly full of the feeling like he just remembered something, but it wasn't good. "What? What is it?"  
  
"James told Sirius how to remove the mark," he said. Harry's own face contorted into the same look. "And-and... Sirius..."  
  
Harry swore very loudly. James did tell Sirius how to remove the mark and Sirius was now in the hospital wing, a zombie with half a soul. Harry buried his face in his hands. "Oh... no..." He dropped his broom and sat heavy on a chair in the commons. Nagini was now gnawing at his insides.  
  
"Why not just go ask Professor Dumbledore?" said Ron meaningfully. "Maybe there's still a way?" Harry looked up at him and nodded. "See you at dinner, then," he called as Harry stepped out of the portrait hole. He drudged up all the way to the stone gargoyle in front of Professor Dumbledore's office.  
  
And then he remembered that he didn't know the password.  
  
He punched the gargoyle hard in the face out of anger, leaving a stinging pain in his knucles. As his hand recoiled, he noticed it had grown three times it's normal size and his skin was glittering golden in the sunlight peering down from the tall windows. He flapped his hand to shake off the pain and the top of the gargoyle fell off as the remnants spookily looked alive and stepped aside. Apparently, if one was forceful enough, it would give in for fear of being broken. He stepped through the big gap in the wall and onto the foot of the spiral stone staircase behind it. He knocked on the polished oak door by means of the brass door knocker.  
  
It took a minute, but Dumbledore's voice came from inside and said, "Come in, Harry." He did as he was asked. Dumbledore was sitting in his desk which sit in the center of the circular room, facing the door. "Sit down," he said politely. Harry looked around once again. He'd only been in Dumbledore's office a few times but there was always something that caught his eye. The first time it was the phoenix, Fawkes, that had broiled up in a fireball. Harry learned shortly afterward that the bird was being reborn.  
  
This time a book, covered in gold, a silver string extending out the spine, caught his eye. Harry immediately recognized it as the Book of Memories which had been used to revive him from a particularly nasty incident involving dementors. The front cover was perfectly flat and untextured except for an etching along the left side of the words "Libri Intus Memoriae." Both covers, front and back, looked to be made of pure gold. All over, the book sparkled in the sunlight. It wasn't thick - maybe about the size of Hogwarts: A History, which, Harry had to admit, afterall, was rather thick. The pages visible from the sides were pearly white, almost transparent. This was a book to be treasured.  
  
"Is - is that..."  
  
"The Book of Memories. I kept it here since we needed it this past summer." Dumbledore leaned over it and picked it up. The soft sparkle turned into a glow, fading quickly in his hands. He picked up a thin, clear material from his desk and placed it on top of the book, covering all it, then put the book down. Dumbledore then put a hand in the center, slowly raised it and the book lifted with it as if it were glued to his hand. A small, orange and red shockwave erupted from the book, rumbling objects in the immediate area before falling back onto the desk.  
  
"This book holds powers that I have not begun to imagine," he said amazed, half ignoring Harry's presence. He removed the material and put the book in a drawer in his desk. "Ah," he said, now rounding on Harry. "Something you wanted to ask me?"  
  
"Wanted to know if you could remove the mark of ancients," said Harry shifting in his seat. "The sooner the better... but... James told Sirius... and... Sirius is in no cond-"  
  
"Relax, Harry. Sirius came right to me afterwards. The process is very simple. You will be put to sleep and will be out for several hours. When you wake up, you should simply no longer be able to control it, as it will not be in your blood anymore." He stood up, then added, "You should also wake up feeling like a million galleons for the small, but very important reason that the permanent Imperius will falter."  
  
"Yeah," said Harry, trying to inject a little reassurance into it, reassurance to himself that this was the right thing to do, as he nodded.  
  
"Come," said Dumbledore, getting up and putting a reassuring hand on Harry's back. "We have to collect all fifteen people."  
  
Professor Sprout was in her office talking to Professor Vector. Dumbledore told them to wait in Harry's dormitory. He surmised that he would once again be out for quite some time. Professor McGonagall was speaking with Professor Flitwitck in McGonagall's classroom, Professor Binns was alone in his classroom, apparently preparing for class on Monday and Madam Hooch, Professors Snape and Trelawney were all conversing in the Great Hall about how Harry would do in future Quidditch games.  
  
They collected Michelle and Mrs. Figg from the Gryffindor commons, Lupin was found prowling the forest and they would have to pay Cornelius and Arthur a Disapparition to retrieve. There was a small problem... the fifteenth person was to be Sirius.  
  
"Who else can do it?" asked Harry impatiently, slightly panicking.  
  
"Let me think," replied Dumbledore, sitting down next to Arabella Figg, who was also trying to think. Cornelius Fudge looked just as perplexed as Harry. Who could they possible get that was a skilled wizard? Mrs. Wealey, nice a lady as she was, was no where near as skilled as her husband.  
  
Help came in the form of Hagrid. He did ask Professor Dumbledore why he was chasing a werewolf near the forest entrance...  
  
"Maybe I can ask Madam Maxime!" he suggested. "Me an' her are gettin' ter be good friends. I'm sure she would be able ter recommend someone. I'll send her an owl right now!" He beamed at them one last time before making a mad dash to his hut. Dumbledore asked himself why not ask Karkaroff, as he was a former Death Eater but quickly remembered he had run off and disappeared... Madam Maxime herself was no great witch.  
  
They used Hedwig, as she was faster than any of the school owls and it only took until dinner that night before Hedwig returned with Madam Maxime's reply.  
  
"Our studen' Fleur Delacour graduated Beauxbaton's with the highes' grades possible," read Hagrid. "She has been educated in this area an' is teaching a course in legendary magic. We are sure she will be a help an' I will escort her as well. I await a return owl."  
  
Ron tried deeply to hide his joy. Just as Harry thought Cho to be the prettiest girl at Hogwarts, Ron was just as enchanted, if not more so, by Fleur who was part veela. Veelas have a strange effect on nearby males, causing them to become much happier than normal. Harry rememebered this feeling all to well. The two of them looked at each other and realized that Cho went to school at Hogwarts, Fleur would be coming, but Hermione would be without Viktor Krum, who they both knew she fancied. Ron and Harry exchanged slightly saddened looks and turned to Dumbledore.  
  
"Very well," he said. The look on his face made it clear he was slightly disappointed they had not been appointed a staff member. Either Fleur was very skilled witch or they were pulling Dumbledore's leg. After seeing Fleur in a duel, Ron and Harry came to the conclusion that she was just very good. Granted, the duel against Harry didn't last very long at all, it was nice to know she tried and there was the fact that she took part in the Triwizard Tournament last year. Hedwig shot off into the night sky.  
  
The next morning she woke Harry by landing on his stomach, quite tired and somewhat dazed. Harry pried the letter from the extraordinarily tight string which attached it to Hedwig's leg and read.  
  
Hagrid,  
  
Fleur and I will be arriving this afternoon just after your lunch should end.  
  
Love,  
Madam Maxime.  
  
Harry had to do a double take on the last three words and make sure his glasses were working correctly. Love? In all his time so far this year, Harry had almost fully neglected Hagrid. Hopefully Hagrid understood that Harry has had... more important things... to mull over. He decided to hide the fact and sent Hedwig right off to deliver the letter to Hagrid, looking like he hadn't received it, then fell back to sleep. It was morning, but it was still dark out.  
  
Harry woke up a refreshing few hours later, bright eyed and somewhat complacent. Afterall, the nightmare was going to be over very soon, he repeated to himself every few seconds as he got dressed. Ron was talking to him but Harry wasn't listening, the words just brushed over him. He even felt so good that he contemplated for a minute whether to put his pointy hat on. Ron kind of stared at him while Harry stared at his hat, arms flat at his side, looking ready to pounce.  
  
Students were only required to wear them during the start and end of year feasts. Harry stood for another second and then said "No, because I'll look stupid."  
  
"What?" asked Ron. Harry's face became slightly red, he didn't intend to say that outloud. Oops...  
  
"Nothing," he replied and turned around to stuff his wand in his pocket.  
  
They headed off out through the portrait hole, Harry wearing one of Mrs. Weasley's shirts and a pair of dark blue jeans. A big, golden letter "H" was embroidered in the center of the emerald green sweater. She made sure to send him, and Ron, Fred and George of course, a new one every year.  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Michelle ate breakfast peacefully talking about future Quidditch games... Ron had not shut up about it since he woke up.  
  
"...and we're going to take Slytherin back to training on their stupid Nimbus Two Thousand Ones. Malfoy isn't going to know what hit him when I send a Bludger screaming after him."  
  
"Uh-huh," said Hermione. "And what if you break a few of his bones?"  
  
"If?" said Ron in a you're-kidding-me voice. "That's my intention." Hermione shook her head grieviously. Harry laughed to himself as another pancake appeared in his plate.  
  
Ron went on and on and the few words Harry caught were "stupid Malfoy," "Firebolt," "Dragonback," and something about Harry flinging Malfoy off school grounds if he gets near the Snitch. Everyone was ignoring Ron, eating silently and Ron didn't seem to notice in all his babbling. Harry felt it good for Ron to get out the anger.  
  
Their next game was after dinner this evening. Michelle brought up the good point that Harry might not be recovered in time for the game. She was right, Harry hadn't asked Dumbledore about the game. Ron didn't hear that question and they thought it best to keep it from him.  
  
After breakfast was over, Harry, Ron and Hermione headed back to the commons and forced a conversation change over to their O.W.L.s. Hermione took the opportunity to force them to study in quiet in Harry and Ron's room much to their despisement. They went over all the potions, curses, charms, Hermione's runes and Muggle studies, Harry and Ron's Diviniation studies for a big, long and boring several hours. Harry did notice Cho looking at him, sometimes winking, sometimes giggling madly, from the Ravenclaw table. He blushed every time.  
  
Hermione kept them couped up so long they arrived at lunch a few minutes late which was just as boring as studying with Hermione. She took books with her and forced them to continue reading.  
  
At last, lunch was over.  
  
A huge horse drawn carriage seen flying over the bewitched ceiling of the Great Hall indicated the arrival of Madam Maxime and Fleur Delacour. Harry shot a quick look at Hagrid who had just spit out his drink and walked hurriedly towards the entrance hall.  
  
"'Ello 'Agrid!" Harry heard Madam Maxime shout as Hagrid exited the Great Hall.  
  
"Come on," Harry said to Ron and Hermione. They left their seats at the Gryffindor table, followed by a very curious Seamus and Dean. Their arrival must have been a surprise to the rest of the school, Harry realized.  
  
"Fleur is going to help remove the mark of ancients," he explained to Dean and Seamus. They exited the Great Hall to see Madam Maxime and Hagrid parting from what Harry knew was a hug. Ron, Hermione, Dean and Seamus looked puzzled. Harry kept his knowledge to himself (but maybe it wouldn't hurt to tell Ron and Hermione later).  
  
When Ron caught site of Fleur, he immediately entered an unmistakable drunken stupor, enchanted and dazzled, as he walked with flush cheeks towards Fleur. Hermione shook her head grieviously just as she did during breakfast. Harry found himself distracted as Cho giggled past him with a few of her friends. Cho must have had lunch with them, taking the time to point and giggle at him.  
  
"Come with me, Harry," said Dumbledore sneaking up behind them. "We will be putting you to sleep in the hospital wing. It's quite a gory process involving lots of incisions and maiming," he added smiling. Harry gulped, hoping he was kidding. Everyone else that was to be involved waited in the Great Hall. Harry walked with Dumbledore to the hospital wing.  
  
"I should tell you that after you're put out by a very, very strong Sleeping Potion, you'll be carried back to the Great Hall. We arrange ourselves in a circle. The incantation is quite long, about two pages. James had the entire thing memorized as he was the most trusted member of the Order of the Phoenix next to myself. I never memorized it, thinking it would be a waste of time. Such fools, we are, when we're young." Harry felt slightly guilty at that last part.  
  
"A small incision is made in your wrist, ankles and center of your neck. You'll recall that's exactly what Voldemort tried this summer. It failed because he had not known about the required fifteen people and you survived it because of the mark. The people are used to create a magic field strong enough to overpower the mark and force it out from the bearer. The more people, the easier it becomes but our resources are limited as it is. Very interesting process, indeed."  
  
When they arrived at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey was standing with Snape, who was carrying a frothing goblet.  
  
"Sit down and drink up, Potter," he ordered. Harry lay on a bed Madam Pomfrey prepared, drank the wretched liquid and immediately felt light as air. Paradise, he thought, as his head fell softly into the cloud of pillows.  
  
What felt like a mere few seconds later, life returned. His skin felt tight. Harry examined his wrists to see small, thin scabs going from left to right at the spot where one would check their pulse. He sat up and pulled one of his feet closer, ripping off the sock, to see exactly the same thing an inch above his foot on the front of his leg. Harry then grazed a finger along his neck to feel another one just above where the shoulder bones meet.  
  
Just as Dumbledore said, Harry felt like a million galleons, the happiest he felt in years. Happier than feeling like he would be living with Sirius, happier than ever winning the Quidditch Cup and to his great surprise, happier than kissing Cho, or at the very least better than the awkward crawly feeling that entered his stomach after it. Unfortunately, it didn't touch the euphoria of meeting Lily and James.  
  
Harry leapt up out of bed, feeling so absolutely overjoyed with happiness he could just scream to the heavens... and then he remembered there was no apparent reason for feeling as such. It didn't bother him in the slightest as he got changed, a grin the size of Hagrid's face on his own, and tore through the corridors without knowing where he was going. There was an awful lot of extra energy Harry needed to burn off at the moment. Towards the Quidditch field his legs carried him, not realizing it.  
  
"Harry!" screamed Ron, his face just as happy as Harry's. Harry's run slowed to a walk. The Quidditch game! It was dusk and the sun was falling. "Dumbledore put a thought from his Pensieve into your mind so you would run right here after waking up." Ron suddenly looked dark. "You neglected to tell me it was going to take so long," he added sternly.  
  
"Sorry-"  
  
"Don't be sorry just go get changed and get your Dragonback," Ron barked. "We were wondering whether or not to send Cho after you." Harry blushed again then sped off, as fast as his legs could carry him, back to his room so he could grab his Quidditch robes, get changed and grab his broom. After, he charged off back to the waiting area.  
  
"Dumbledore was supposed to have reminded you to get changed," said Ron.  
  
"I didn't," said Harry flatly.  
  
"I noticed."  
  
"Enough bickering, you two," said Kylie in a motherly tone. She stole a glance at Ron and chuckled.  
  
"All right, Harry?" asked Craig nonchalant. Harry had taken a liking to Craig for treating him the complete opposite of Kylie. She always managed to find herself staring at the scar on his forehead before noticing what she was doing, much like she was doing just now.  
  
"Couldn't be better," replied Harry, covering the scar with his bangs. "All ready?"  
  
"Yep," said Ron and Alicia in unison.  
  
"Let's win this!" said Ron as they ran out onto the field.  
  
"Mount your brooms," called Madam Hooch. The Hufflepuffs, in their canary yellow robes, were looking quite dissheveled as a few of them stared in awe at Harry's broom.  
  
"Welcome!" shouted Lee Jordan, the announcer, "to Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor! One of this evening's big spectacles is the new broom of Harry Potter -"  
  
"MR. JORDAN!" screamed Professor McGonagall. It was her job to keep Lee in line with Quidditch-talk only, as he frequently was biased towards the Gryffindor team's doings.  
  
"Right," he continued. All of players flew up into the air, Harry rising higher than all of them except Hufflepuff's new seeker, one slightly pudgy boy who scarily reminded Harry of Dudley. The two of them flew perfectly level with one another. "Madam Hooch brings out the box. She lets out the Bludgers, the Golden Snitch... and tosses up the Quaffle!  
  
"Hufflepuff in posession! Pass to - nice aim by Gryffindor Beater Ron Weasley, who also happens to be the team captain! Gryffindor's Katie Bell snatches the Quaffle. Up and down she goes, pass to Spinnet, pass to Johnson, back to Katie... towards the Hufflepuff goal, shoot and score! Ten to Gryffindor!"  
  
Harry decided to ignore rest of the commentary and get the Snitch as fast as possible after seeing Cho pointing up and waving at him from her seat. He waved back as a Bludger came dangerously close to his hand on the broom. Ron flew over and asked to give him a bit of speed. With no sign of the Snitch, Harry wasted no time in sending Ron flying off to the nearest Bludger - and Ron hit it square at the Quaffle sending it barreling into Hufflepuff's goal.  
  
The pudgy boy entered a fantastic dive, on the likes Harry had done himself on his Nimbus Two Thousand. Harry shot off after him. The Golden Snitch had been within the boy's reach when Harry let out a small burst of speed, when a Bludger came from behind and knocked him into the Hufflepuff Seeker. Both of them lost sight of the Snitch.  
  
One Hufflepuff Beater waved at Harry happily, who grunted back and shot back up in the air, returning to search for the Snitch. Then, there it was, piercing his eyes. Harry leaned all the way forward on his Dragonback, putting on a burst of speed that nearly unseated him, causing his hands to slip back a few inches. After just a second, he forced himself to lean back, bringing it to a full stop but it was far too much and he glided over Hagrid shouting, "Oops."  
  
"'S'all righ' Harry!" Hagrid boomed back.  
  
"Harry can you do that for me when I get the Quaffle again?" asked Angelina. It didn't take her long as Kylie had managed to knock the Quaffle out of the air with a well placed Bludger, along with her bat, which she zoomed after. Angelina grabbed onto the back of Harry's broom.  
  
"Hold on," said Harry, "tight." She grabbed around his waist, gripping the Quaffle in front of him. Harry leaned forward all the way, slipping back a few inches again, scaring Angelina in the process ("OH NO!"). She let go of the Quaffle at precisely the right moment... nailing the Hufflepuff Keeper in the chest.  
  
Their team captain called a time out. Harry, coupled with Angelina, flew to Ron, as did Craig, Katie, Alicia and Kylie.  
  
"Maybe I shouldn't go so fast," Harry suggested. Ron nodded. The Hufflepuff Keeper was hurt badly, spitting up blood.  
  
"Dumb git," grunted Ron, "shouldn't get in the way of a Quaffle going so fast." He paused for a few seconds, scratching his head then added, "All right. Save it for Malfoy, Harry. Looks like their Keeper is ready to go again. Just lean halfway."  
  
"Besides," said Angelina, "you scared me when your hands slipped on the Dragonback."  
  
"That happens all the time," explained Harry. Angelina looked like she had just been running from a pack of hungry dementors.  
  
"Weasley," called Madam Hooch, "they're ready."  
  
"Okay!" he called back. "And get that Snitch, Harry," said Ron, determined to win.  
  
"Right." The seven of them soared back into the air.  
  
A small voice in the back of Harry's mind made him flinch and shake his head violently. "No, please, take me instead!" it said. 


	17. The End of A Legend

Chapter 17: THE END OF A LEGEND  
  
The wave of cold, bone-chilling, skin-freezing cold filled the air. Harry couldn't move, numb and frozen to the spot, floating, the ground threatening to meet him. Dementors were never this strong. He let himself sink slowly to the ground in the case that he did lose consciousness so the fall wouldn't be too great. Falling down... farther... he felt his insides drown in an ocean of freezing water as his vision became nothing more than white blurs. Screams from the crowd turned into a strong, loud rush of water only to be topped by Lily screaming louder and clearer than she ever had, so loud his hands left his broom and covered his ears.  
  
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead --"  
  
Harry's legs slipped off the Dragonback and he let out what he swore was a cry but he heard nothing but the screams in his head. Ravenous, mad laughter mixed itself in.  
  
"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now..."  
  
The white blurs became thicker, mistier and swirled their way into his head, clouding it, pounding it, causing the grip on his ears to move upwards, Harry now gripping his head. A final searing pain pounded in his brain like a mallet smashing his skull and the last he saw was the ground rushing up to him frighteningly fast.  
  
"GET UP!" someone shouted, standing over him. Harry's eyes opened in an instant. Ron was standing over him and dropped a piece of chocolate on top of him. "EAT IT AND BACK TO THE CASTLE!" Ron stretched an arm out and Harry grabbed it, feeling every part of him sore and aching, then pulled himself up, grabbing the chocolate. He wharfed it down as Ron put a hand on his back, pushed, and ran full on back to the castle.  
  
"My broom-" started Harry but,  
  
"Forget the broom, Harry! Voldemort crashed our game with a load of dementors!" Harry looked back. A swarm of dementors and Death Eaters were pouring out of thin air, their skin glowing. No one can Apparate to Hogwarts with the enchantments, at least, not unless you have the mark of ancients -- a fact which Harry and Dumbledore neglected in their wonder of how Voldemort would plan to arrive.  
  
Harry turned around, running backwards, looking where his Dragonback lie, pulled out his wand from inside his robes and shouted "Accio!" The Dragonback was in perfect condition and flew right into his outstretched hand.  
  
"Wait," said Harry, suddenly stopping. It was Ron's turn to get a sharp hand on the back. They both turned around. Dumbledore and other teachers had taken to attacking the Death Eaters.  
  
"Should we help?" asked Harry.  
  
"What are you, nuts?" Ron looked at Harry like he had just grown three more arms. "Oh no!" he then said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"HERMIONE!" Ron clutched Harry's hand arm and ran back to the stands. One Death Eater managed to whizz a Crucio just over Ron's head before they found Hermione hiding and tearing under some seats.  
  
"This almost makes me wish I didn't give up the mark of ancients," said Harry hastily as they tried to look for a safer way to get out, when,  
  
"AUGH!" Harry turned around to find Lucius Malfoy, grinning, wand raised, Ron in total pain and writhing, under the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Harry thought of nothing better to do than to put a hand over Ron's mouth.  
  
"Draconus iciclia!" Harry cried. His wand gave off nothing more than a puff of ice.  
  
"It's useless!" shrieked Hermione. "The mark helped you use that spell! Without it, it's not going to work!"  
  
"Look at him, I have to do something!" Ron continued to writhe and roll, shouting and screaming, banging his fists all over.  
  
"Give me the Dragonback," said Hermione, looking like she had a plan.  
  
"What for?"  
  
"Give it here," she ordered. Hermione pulled out her wand, chucked the broom in the air and shouted "Wingardium Leviosa!" Her eyes became cold as ice, staring at Lucius like gum on the bottom of her shoe. The Dragonback soared towards Lucius, hitting him square between the eyes. His wand dropped, releasing Ron from the Cruciatus Curse. Ron moaned several more times before Harry dared to put a finger near him. The Dragonback flew into Harry's hand.  
  
"I don't like that spell," croaked Ron, still shaking.  
  
"Trust me," Harry assured him, "neither do I."  
  
"Well what do we do?" asked Hermione. "Run for it or try to kill someone then run for it?"  
  
"I like that attitude," said Ron.  
  
"You're in awfully good sp - PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE!" screamed Harry. A Death Eater had gotten him into the unmistakable state of Cruciatus. McGonagall and Snape stood near him, firing off their own spells and curses, hitting quite a few Death Eaters, causing their bodies to fill with boils and what had to be leeches crawling under their skin. Ron looked amazed at one potion Snape threw, causing a huge explosion, sending Death Eater and dementor alike flying high into the air, landing with a hard crunch. Harry then panicked again.  
  
"Where's Cho and Fleur?" he gulped.  
  
"Relax," said Hermione, breathing heavily, "I saw Cho running with a bunch of Ravenclaws. They're in the castle. Fleur never came outside."  
  
"Come on then," said Harry, grabbing both Ron and Hermione.  
  
"You're not going to try to help them?" gasped Ron.  
  
"We have to," said Harry, his voice quivering, yet slightly confident.  
  
Down the Quidditch stands they went, students were still leaking out of them. Ron and Hermione looked away as one Hufflepuff had been blasted to smithereens by Clades Ultimus, casted by none other than Voldemort. It was more like playing dodge ball, without balls of your own to throw, as they made their way down the stands towards Professor Dumbledore. Sprout had managed to toss a huge plant, barring great big teeth, onto the Death Eater holding Dumbledore in Cruciatus. The wizard, as big and wide as Hagrid, flailed his arms madly, shaking the plant off, revealing a cut in his arm the size of Harry's wrist. He fell to the ground dead.  
  
"Infernus Grandis Inflamora!" Harry heard Dumbledore shout. A fire, bigger than Harry ever conjured, roared from a volcanic crack in the ground, lifting up his target several feet in the air. Lava poured out the top of the crack, searing and singing anyone and anything caught in it's path. Steady streams of flames billowed out of Dumbledore's wand, leaving the unlucky one to get hit by it nothing more than a pile of dust.  
  
At the same instant, Hermione screamed as Professor Vector was caught in fire, engulfing him from head to toe, much larger than the flames from Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore put out the fire and managed to prevent Professor Vector's very unfortunate death.  
  
Harry scowled, staring blankly to the right of Trelawney at the hooded figure that had to be Voldemort. All the times he wished Trelawney fall dead were whisked away by the sight of the ashes of Professor Vector's clothing -- he ran full on the castle. Hermione shrieked once more as a green light bounced off a metal bar dangerously closed to herself.  
  
The three of them went back to hiding in Hermione's original position, figuring it was safer until a few more of the Death Eaters had died out. A small amount of hope came in the form of a huge Patronus jumping out of the wands of Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore's Patronus was the figure of a humongous version of Fawkes, towering over the heads of any witch or wizard currently fighting for their life. Professor McGonagall's came in the form of a gorgeous cat with a thick, healthy coat of fur. It scowled evilly in the direction of various dementors, causing them Disapparate where they stood. The two Patronus' rid the area of any dementors and just Death Eaters, droves and droves of them, remained - at least thirty to the Hogwarts' staff of fourteen.  
  
"D'you think they're going to win?" asked Ron.  
  
"Who," said Harry, breathing heavily (and noticing that Ron and Hermione were, too), "us or them?"  
  
The look on Ron's face showed clearly he was asking himself the same thing.  
  
"Remedium impluo!" shrieked Dumbledore. A grand, puffy white cloud materialized over the heads of Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape. It showered them with fine drops of white rain. Harry recognized this as the healing shower Dumbledore had mentioned in Paladism.  
  
Their faces looked poised to get rid of more Death Eaters - and fight them off, they did. There were no doubts Dumbledore could rival Voldemort's power but he had to ask himself, how much more powerful did the mark of ancients make him? Were it not for mad ducking and dodging, the clash would be over. From both sides, they were all able to quickly dodge the Killing Curse. One particular Death Eater ate Snape's Light of Faith and Dumbledore led five away to be killed by Clades Ultimus.  
  
Hagrid could be seen wrestling them to the ground, slapping their wands away. He used small fire charms via his umbrella to put their wand hand out of commission. It was all very effective.  
  
Harry glared at the hooded figure of Voldemort and noticed Michelle was no where to be found. Voldemort gazed around, looking for someone.  
  
Harry wished it never happened. Voldemort stared directly at him, his wand standing out like a weapon of mass destruction in his clammy hand, gripped between oddly long fingers. Harry gulped deeply as Voldemort walked broodingly over, chuckling under his breath. He was glad Ron and Hermione had not noticed but the gladness was stripped away momentarily.  
  
"Harry Potter!" called Voldemort in an odd we-are-best-friends voice. Ron and Hermione's heads whipped violently to the direction of the sound. They were rooted to the ground and Harry felt Hermione's fingernails puncture his cloak. He turned to look at their faces, and, as he had expected, they were livid with terror.  
  
"GO!" Harry ordered to them, trying to pry Hermione's hand off. "RUN!" He wished he hadn't said that as they scurried off, straight towards Dumbledore who had managed to chase away several more Death Eaters. Hermione pointed a finger at Harry. He watched, panicking, as Dumbledore broke into a run.  
  
"Pathetic," said Voldemort softly as he traped Dumbledore in vines as if he were just a fly. Voldemort's skin glowed smoky-quartz black, aiding the sun's lack of presence in ridding the area of light. It seemed to suck the light out of anything, including the enchanted, burning candles atop the stands. Voldemort's attention turned to Harry again. What small courage he had entered the situation with seemed to grow little by little and he decided to stand up, straight-backed and proud, the way his father died.  
  
"Valiant attempts, you make, Harry. This time I made sure you couldn't escape. I tried and failed this summer with mind games. You lasted through it all and I'm quite impressed. All it took was a little playing with your heart, some trickery on the eyes and it all worked as I expected. I was hoping, however, for Michelle to do her job as I demanded and change Dumbledore's mind about removing the mark of ancients."  
  
Michelle... Potter?  
  
"You look surprised, boy!" Voldemort was now climbing the stands.  
  
"She's my sister, why would she do that?" said Harry trembling. Voldemort's mad laugh filled the air.  
  
"She's no sister of yours. 'Michelle' is Thantanos Brev's own sister. I'm quite proud of that story, her being an Auror, running frightened from me. Touching, isn't it? What little of your blood I stole during the summer was enough to provide one of my faithfuls with enough of the mark to extend her magic ability greatly. The memory charms, so powerful, worked excellently on Dumbledore!"  
  
"What about my parents? Huh? How were their spirits tricked?" Harry felt his teeth grinding almost painfully. He was currently glad there was no pain from his scar just yet.  
  
"Easy. Spirits are just spirits. Foresight works wonders on the ethereal." Harry now ignored the screams from below. A fresh river of hatred filled his veins. Voldemort need not turn around to see Hagrid running towards them, fists clenched, teeth bared, as he, too became wrapped in vines.  
  
The truth then hit Harry like Hagrid's fist to a Death Eater's face. His sister was a lie. Harry had been so happy, so calm and so open to the girl he swore was part of his family but it was just a joke. How could he believe such an outlandish story? Don't stand for the ridicule, Harry thought to himself. Instinctively, Harry closed his eyes and clasped his hands, as if the mark of ancients was still in him. He prayed for a small burst of glitter, some ray of hope.  
  
"Parcere meus vita, parcere meus anima," he began to chant. Voldemort's laughing caused a small tingle in his scar but it did not hamper his words.  
  
"Why do you bother?"  
  
"Accio potentia caeles intus veneficus adfirmo!"  
  
"It's not going to work, Harry."  
  
"Adiumentum meus via!"  
  
"Removed, Harry! It's gone. My precious, at least you'll go out the way James would have liked."  
  
"YOU SHOUT UP ABOUT MY PARENTS!" Harry roared. The anger that filled him grew with each passing moment, much like the blue haze from Clades Ultimus. "Parcere meus vita, parcere meus anima." He again ignored the louder laughing erupting from the insane wizard in front of him.  
  
"Stop now," said Voldemort calmly, "and I'll spare the lives of the ones cheering for you." Harry's scar broke into a piercing pain on the likes of fingernails hard digging into it. He winced, eyes pressing hard, not letting it bother him. "Elicio bestia balrog," said Voldemort cooly.  
  
Harry's eyes glanced open to see a huge creature, towering over the very castle of Hogwarts. It was a larger version of the balrog that came out of the mirror, big, red and covered with fire. The horns on it's head were thicker than Harry's entire body. They curled around from the center of the back of it's head to the front, making eye brows as it ended just over the eyes which were pure black. The skin was mostly fire and any black skin that showed was nor charred nor burning and it did not look like it was in pain in this condition. It roared once, causing the very ground to rumble.  
  
This, Harry guessed, was a fully grown balrog. It advanced threateningly on Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. Harry's immediate reaction was to run... run away and help but Voldemort was a more immediate danger.  
  
"Addere ultimus clades ad parcere nullus altera!" Harry shouted and opened his eyes. A low rumble cracked the air and Harry's skin glowed perfect white, lighting up the night sky like the sun. It lasted a short second and faded so quickly Harry knew it would not help him if he needed it. The mark of ancients was gone. Voldemort's mad laughter echoed painfully in his ears and he pushed Harry off the top of the stands.  
  
His back cracked hard against the ground, his hands outstretched in a feeble attempt to break the fall. Surely, several bones had broken. Voldemort jumped, landing light as air, next to him.  
  
"What... do you want... with me..." asked Harry.  
  
His body felt brittle all over. There were cuts on his hands so large that if they weren't tended to, he would surely bleed to death. Deafening, terrible, bloody screams echoed in the air from where Dumbledore and the others were standing. He dare not think of how their end was.  
  
For a fleeting moment, Thantanos and Michelle, if that were their real names, were standing where he was just a moment ago. Michelle's lip curled into what was an unmistakable "I'm sorry," and her faced was shaped into such a sincere way that Harry could not help but think she truly was. It didn't matter. What Voldemort had her and Thantanos do was already finished. Harry would have to enjoy his last moments, if that were at all possible...  
  
"What are you staring at?" asked Voldemort. He turned his head in the direction Harry was looking. Michelle and Thantanos were gone. "Crucio," said Voldemort softly and coldly. If the pains weren't bad enough, the new pain was worse. Harry immediately recalled the time he had used the mark to cast the Cruciatus Curse on Thantanos. One long, inhuman, earsplitting and bloody scream was all it took to put him out of consciousness. Harry let out similar screams, only louder. The pain was comparable to having the weight of the balrog standing on him, digging it's humongous claws deep inside his forehead and then ripping it in two. To add insult to injury, his scar exploded in agony. Blood slowly leaked out from it, soaking his hands.  
  
"I want you dead, Harry Potter," said Voldemort nonchalantly to Harry, still holding him in the curse as he knelt down, "because I want what you had and I don't want you getting it back. Dead or alive, I could get it but you have been quite the tricky one to kill. By removing it from yourself you've only limited my power. You'll still die." He raised his wand. Harry rolled on the floor, recoiling and trying to regain his senses from the most powerful and painful feeling he had ever come across. Blood continued to leak out from his scar as it continued to hurt.  
  
"That happy scar you bear," said Voldemort, holding Harry still and parting his bangs and to reveal it, "is a reminder of my foolishness... nothing more." Voldemort let go and Harry stopped rolling and lay flat-backed on the ground, staring upwards at the face that haunted his dreams for four years and the face that caused him, for fourteen years, to relive the horror of his parents' death. Despite the terrible pain in the scar, Harry could not move. With one snap of Voldemort's fingers, Harry could tell they were in the forest, the black, far more treacherous forest he and Ron flew over on the Dragonback.  
  
"No one will find your body," said Voldemort. "No one will find your dead and decaying body. You're dead, Harry." Harry felt his stomach lurch and grumble. He wanted to stand up and fight but his limbs were too weak.  
  
He lie paralyzed, pinned to the ground, unable to stare at anything but the sky. What happened tortured his mind. His friends were dead, his parents' memory was scalded and the worst feeling of all, perhaps, was the trickery on his heart of the one he thought he could love like a sister. He wished dreams would remove him from the trap, a sharp sting in his scar. Harry couldn't help but think there was more to her and Thantanos.   
  
"Avada Kedavra!" shouted Voldemort, wand pointed at Harry. Harry would never find out. The green light hit it's mark. 


End file.
